Princess Whitelaw and his Toy
by All-Knowing Alien 2
Summary: What happens when you mix Star Trek, the Nutcracker ballet and the challenge of making it all a musical into one? Well, this. I don't own a lot of things. Slash, AU, and dedicated to the lovely Tumblr people I know.
1. Act I

Princess Whitelaw and His Toy by diemarysues

**Act I**

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Tumblrland, lived a princess. He was the only child of King Natatas and Queen Lamamama, and the lifeblood of the nation. There was nothing, from his good look to his enchanting personality, from his wit and intelligence to his incredibly blue eyes, that did not charm the people.

This Princess was called Princess Jamesina Whitelaw.

As was usual practice in Tumblrland, Yule was celebrated in the castle. Anyone and everyone were invited, and the courtyard was awash with colours and music and laughter. Here nobility mixed freely with farmers, thaumaturgists with courtiers, peasants with fairies; this being a night of goodwill rather than segregation of classes. Still, this is a story about Princess Whitelaw, not humanity and its hang-ups, so I'll chalk that paragraph up to digression and move on to our main character.

He was seated on the short flight of stairs that led to the raised dais of his parents' thrones. Around him were the younger members of the court – from old-enough-to-behave-in-public toddlers to not-old-enough-to-be-adult teenagers. They were being entertained by a kind of play, something along the lines of a young curly-haired lad being chased by a bear of some sort.

Princess Whitelaw, who knew the story (the two would eventually fall in love) did his best to quell his boredom by arranging his hands in his lap. He liked the way the deep blue velvet felt against his skin; he was glad he hadn't had to wear the heavily-embroidered silk dress. The thread was too scratchy.

Although all the presents gifted to him had already been opened – and _there_ was a daunting amount of thank you notes to write – Princess Whitelaw knew there was one more. His fairy godmother had not yet shown up, even though the festivities were beginning to wind down. Still, Lady Gaga was famous – or infamous, take your pick – for being fashionably late. Perhaps she wanted to make an entrance.

The Princess was startled out of his musings when clapping started up around him. Belatedly he realised the show was over, and half-heartedly brought his hands together to applaud the bowing couple. Where was his godmother?

One young duke was laughing obnoxiously with a couple of equally unpleasant friends. The Princess narrowed his eyes. He was not fond of Khan Noonien Singh. The Duke of Ceti Alpha V was not pleasant, and since Princess Whitelaw's flat rejection to his courting, well…suffice it to say that interaction between the two was strained, to say the least.

Suddenly a burst of music emerged from the ceiling, while bubbles and scented smoke appeared from thin air. Princess Whitelaw sat up, and his grin lit up his startling blue eyes.

Lady Gaga first went to greet his parents, because as uncontroversial as she was, there were some protocols that simply had to be followed. Acknowledging the hosts of the gathering, especially when those hosts were royal, was one of them. It helped that she was close to King Natatas and Queen Lamamama.

Princess Whitelaw was confused, then, when instead of greeting her godson, she instead went around the great hall producing gifts for everyone…but him. Even that snot Khan got a present, which he immediately ripped open and cackled about with his friends. He caught the words 'Genesis weapon' but wasn't bothered enough to wonder what it was. Instead he walked up to his godmother, who seemed to have exhausted her supply of presents.

"Godmother," he greeted, a little uncertainly.

"Jamesina!" exclaimed Lady Gaga with delight, hugging her godson. "Happy Yule to you." She pulled back, but left her hands on his shoulders.

"And to you," Princess Whitelaw said, unable to not smile in the face of that exuberance.

"You've grown taller; I really should visit more often." She babbled on and on about all the Princess had missed, until he felt his patience run thin.

He said, in an even a voice as he could master, "Godmother, I'm sorry if this is too forward, but where is my Yule gift?"

She looked stricken, and made a big show of checking her pockets (which she didn't actually have) before turning her great big eyes on the Princess.

"I don't have one for you, sweetheart. I'm so sorry."

If he was but a year younger, he would have burst into tears at that admission. (It wasn't that the Princess was spoiled; rather, he looked forward to Yule more than his own birthday, and cherished gifts from his fairy godmother in particular, as she did not visit often, as mentioned earlier.) Still, it took some effort to smooth his expression, and even more to muster a smile.

"I see," he said delicately, doing his best to refrain from saying that no, he didn't see – because he was mature, dammit, and he could prove it to all those –

The rest of the Princess' thoughts have to be censored for the sake of common decency. Truly, the amount of profanity picked up through his friendship with Healer McCoy was lamentable.

Lady Gaga started grinning widely, and Princess Whitelaw blinked, not having expected the action.

"Just kidding, sweetheart! You really think I would've left my only godson out?"

The Princess would have replied, had the fairy not pulled out his present from behind her back. He accepted the gift reverently, and carefully inspected it. The figurine – not a doll, he was too old for dolls – was a man, dressed in a blue tunic, black leggings and black boots. But, upon closer examination, the Princess saw that it wasn't a man; it had delicate, pointed ears. Instead of the usual rosy blush similar (human) figurines had, this had a very faint green tint to its cheeks and ear tips. Its black hair was proportionally longer than the Princess' (somewhat neater, too) and it had large brown eyes (framed by curiously slanting eyebrows) that were enough to make him fall in love with it.

"It's beautiful," he whispered.

"It's a Vulcan warrior. One of their legends, or so I'm told. His name is Spock."

The nation of Tumblrland did not know much about the country of Vulcan. Hardly anyone did, as they were a secretive people. To have gotten an authentic gift from there (and Princess Whitelaw knew that it was authentic, his godmother was snobby like that)…well. It was a gift of tremendous value.

Apparently he was not the only one who had realised this. Later, several parties would confirm the look on envy on the Duke's face right before he deliberately knocked into the Princess.

"So sorry," he said, not sounding sorry in the slightest. Princess Whitelaw hardly noticed, as his attention was more focused on the figurine on the floor.

"It's broken!" he said in anguish.

"Such a shame. I do apologise, Princess, truly. However, I am needed elsewhere. I take my leave."

Princess Whitelaw glared at his retreating back, wishing irrationally that he could burn him with the force of his gaze alone. 'Khaaaan,' he thought angrily.

"It's not too badly broken," said Lady Gaga. She'd scooped up Spock from the floor.

"It's not too – his arm's come off!" It wasn't the only damage to the figurine, but it was the most visible.

"'Tis but a scratch." Lady Gaga kissed her godson's forehead, though he remained unconvinced. "Enjoy the rest of the party, Jamesina. I'll take care of this."

OoOoOoOoOo

Princess Whitelaw crept as quietly as he could into his own quarters, which is easier said than done when one was tipsy. Healer McCoy – Bones, as Jamesina affectionately called him – would not allow him to return to his rooms alone if he was truly drunk. ("Else your parents would send me out of Tumblrland, Jim, even if I was the best healer they could find.") Even so, Princess Whitelaw stumbled once or twice, and had trouble keeping the smile off his face.

His bedchambers were blissfully cool once he opened the door, but his attention was more on the blue bubbles floating around the room, the note propped up on the vase of chrysanthemums – but most importantly, Spock on his bedside table.

Instead of snatching up the figurine – because he was a little worried his impaired coordination would lead to it breaking again – Jamesina sat on his bed, and waited for a while for it to stop dipping crazily under him. Then he picked up the card.

_Jamesina,_

_Didn't I tell you I'd take care of it? I've added a few extra charms to make sure nothing like that will happen again, but I know you'll take care of him. I'm sorry I won't be spending much time with you this time, sweetheart. I'll try to visit again soon, I promise._

_In the meantime; don't you think Spock belongs with the present your parents gave you? Yes, we coordinated our presents this year. And don't roll your eyes, young man; do you think we can't be sneaky?_

_All my love,_

_Your godmother._

Princess Whitelaw smiled, replaced the card, picked up Spock, and then carefully set across the room. As long as he didn't make any sudden moves or lean over to one side too much, he figured he'd be fine.

On the mantelpiece over the fireplace sat his parents' gift to him. It was a beautiful silver ship, but not the traditional sailing vessel the Princess was accustomed to. According to the King and Queen, it was for venturing among the stars, knowing that their son had a certain fascination with them. Jamesina had decided to name the ship the Enterprise, for no other reason than the fact that it seemed strangely suitable.

Looking at the Vulcan warrior in his arms, he now decided that, yes, he could imagine Spock on the Enterprise, as its captain, sailing to the sun and to distant stars.

He rectified the image as he walked to the window seat; instead of the Vulcan, it would be him, Jamesina Whitelaw, as the captain, with Spock as his second-in-command. Sitting down on the cushions and tucking his feet beneath him, the Princess propped his chin on one hand, Spock cradled in the other, staring out at the midnight sky and mapping his journey.

He wasn't sure when he fell asleep.

OoOoOoOoOo

"Captain?"

Who was that touching his shoulder? It was a very pleasant voice, no doubt, but Princess Whitelaw had never heard it before. Since his parents had raised him properly – i.e., do not talk to strangers, Jamesina –, he did not answer.

"Captain? Are you alright?"

But he supposed he could sneak a look. There was no harm in _looking_, surely. He opened his eyes. He gasped.

The face hovering over his was familiar. But it shouldn't have been…real.

"_Spock_?"

The Vulcan's face was completely devoid of any emotion, but his quirked eyebrow seemed to convey amusement. Or, at least, that's what Jamesina thought.

"Affirmative, Captain. It seems that there has been a transporter malfunction. Mr. Scott is currently running diagnostics, though he cannot yet explain why beaming up to the _Enterprise_ could have knocked you unconscious…or alter your clothing."

Only about half of what Spock had said made any sort of sense to Jamesina. He glanced down at himself confusedly. "My clothing?"

"You are not in the habit of wearing dresses, Captain." The eye twinkle seemed to convey more amusement. "At least, not to my knowledge."

"I was wearing this just before I – oh. _Oh_. I get it." The Princess laughed, finally pushing himself up into sitting position. Suddenly his surroundings – which were completely _alien_, by the way – and the presence of his should-be fictional companion made sense.

Spock obligingly moved back to give him space. (It was only then that Jamesina noticed that he was kneeling by him on the strange metal floor.) "Captain?"

"It's a dream! This is just a dream."

There was only the slightest furrow between Spock's brows, but he was clearly frowning. (Clearly for him, anyway.) "Captain, I can assure you, this is no dream."

"Of course it is, Spock." Princess Whitelaw wrote off the familiarity of that name on his tongue as part of the dream. "I was supposed to go to bed after seeing Bones, but since my godmother fixed you, I guess I fell asleep at the window with you in my arms. I mean, I do remember that I was imagining sailing with you. That's the only reason I'd be here in my nightdress." He laughed again, fingering the dress in question. It was gold, and cotton, and comfortable.

"Captain." Spock's fingers twitched from where his hands were carefully placed on his thighs, as if he wanted to reach out and touch the Princess. "Jim. This is no dream." When Jamesina did nothing more than look nonplussed, he said, cautiously, "You are James Tiberius Kirk, captain of the _Enterprise_."

The Princess' brow furrowed, his knees coming up to his chest automatically. "I'm not a captain. I'm not this James Kirk. My name is Jamesina Whitelaw. Princess Jamesina Whitelaw."

"Jim, we can have Leonard look you over, but I assure you –"

He shook his head furiously. "Stop it! I'm not your captain! This is my dream, anyway, you shouldn't be protesting!"

Spock was silent for a moment, breathing evenly, his face smooth and clear of all expression. He merely looked at Jamesina, and the Princess looked right back. It was startling, how much he looked like the figurine his godmother had gifted him – or, rather, it was startling how much the figurine looked like him. Maybe not so startling, if this was a dream. Which it was.

The Vulcan's quiet voice broke through his musings.

"Jim…Princess. It is now clear to me that you are not my…Captain. However, I cannot stress enough that this is not a figment of your imagination. This ship and everything within it, including myself; these are all real."

"It can't be, Spock." He said this even though he could not possibly have dreamed in this level of detail, could not possibly feel the cold of the floor through his bare feet, could not possibly have come up with the richness of Spock's voice.

"My mother has told me that humans often pinch themselves to determine whether or not they are dreaming. You – that is, your counterpart – has often said so, particularly when we visit paradisiacal planets." His voice betrayed no inflection, but somehow managed to convey his disapproval for such nonsense.

The Princess wanted to ask what he'd meant by 'humans' – did that mean Spock was not human? Well, the ears sort of gave that away, but still. Instead he raised a slightly shaky hand and pinched himself on the shoulder.

It hurt.

Oh, no. Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no, oh, no, oh, no, oh, no, oh, no, oh, no –

"Princess!"

He felt Spock grab his shoulders, and only then noticed that he'd been saying it aloud. His blue eyes were wide and panicky as he met Spock's brown ones. He struggled to find words. "This – I can't…my family, Spock! They'll miss me! I need to get back home!"

Despite his mouth maintaining its severe line, his eyes softened slightly, almost unnoticeably. But before he could say anything, someone walked into the room.

He looked like the castle's Head Tinker (Montgomery was his name), except for his manner of dress. He had on a similar tunic to Spock's, only his was blood red.

"Ah'm sorry, Mr. Spock, but I cannae – Cap'n! Yeh're awake!"

Jamesina knew that there was no way the man could have known who he really was. Even so, his nerves were fragile with all the stress he was undergoing. He snapped.

He got to his feet and stood, slightly unsteady due to the sudden rush of blood. "I am not the captain," he bit out. "I'm Princess Whitelaw."

With that announcement, he ran out of the room, leaving behind the man who looked like someone from _home_, and the Vulcan who had just been a toy from his godmother when he'd fallen asleep.

OoOoOoOoOo

He'd just run, uncaring of where his feet took him or the odd looks he received from people in the hallways. He had no idea where he was headed, only that he needed to get away. From what, he didn't know.

When he finally stopped, chest heaving, having gone through one of those odd swishing automatic doors, he found himself surrounded by sterile whiteness (well, even more sterile and white than the rest of the ship he'd seen).

A man who was fiddling with several vials and dangerous looking equipment looked up briefly at him, then continued with his work. "Yes, Jim?"

Princess Whitelaw felt his jaw drop. He looked exactly the same, sounded exactly the same as – "_Bones_?"

"Yeah. You wanna explain to me why you're wearing a dress, kid? Or is it like the time with the Klingons?" When Jamesina didn't answer, he frowned, but still didn't look up. Possibly the noxious looking yellow fluid he was transferring from one vial to another was caustic. "Jim?"

He swallowed. "I'm not Jim. Or…I'm not the Jim everyone thinks I am."

Bones went very still, and slowly placed his equipment onto the table in front of him. Only then did he look up, properly, at Princess Whitelaw. He stared at him for two moments, and then said, "You're right. You're too young." He scratched at his chin. "Have a seat, kid."

The Princess gratefully sank into one of the oddly shaped chairs, pulling his legs to his chest so he could rest his chin on his knees. He knew it was a very vulnerable position, but this man was so much like the Bones he knew at home. It was just so natural to be comfortable around him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, eyeing the contents littering the table curiously.

"I'm preparing the crew's inoculations. Space is disease and danger wrapped up in darkness and silence."

He said it with such vehemence that Princess Whitelaw was reminded of his own Bones, who hated swimming. His fond smile dropped away from his face, however, and his fingers fisted in the material of his skirt.

"Bones…I'm scared."

"Jim. Don't worry." Jamesina felt rather than saw the healer stand and approach him. "We'll get you home."

"How do you know that? I mean, I don't even know how I got here, and I don't know why you're so much like healer McCoy at home, and you don't know where my home is or, or _when_, and I thought this was all just a dream, it'd be so much simpler then, but it's not a dream, and I'm never going to see my parents –"

Bones stopped his increasingly hysterical rant by grasping one shoulder and shaking him gently. "Jim, trust me. You do trust me, right?" At the Princess' hesitant nod, he smiled warmly. "So listen to me; you _will_ go home. We have the best crew in the 'fleet, some of the brightest minds onboard."

Jamesina couldn't help but ask. "Spock?"

He snorted. "So you met the hobgoblin, eh?" Without waiting for an answer, instead looking around furtively, Bones said, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but, yeah. He's annoying as Hell, but he's a genius. Apparently smarter than Vulcans his age. If anyone can get you home, it's him."

Princess Whitelaw couldn't help but feel inexplicably heartened by this. He gave Bones a shy smile, and was given a hearty clap on the shoulder.

"Now c'mon. Let's get you into something else. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were a princess from one of Joanna's fairytales."

Jamesina obligingly rose to his feet, but felt inclined to correct him. "But Bones…I _am_ a princess."

Bones just stared at him for a while. "Huh. No shit."

OoOoOoOoOo

It seemed that Spock had explained to the crew the unusual circumstances surrounding the Princess' presence. Although it meant that the stares were more pointed and accompanied with whispering, it was a relief that no one was calling him Captain, or thinking him someone he was not.

It was still odd, however, meeting those who made up the actual Captain's (this Jim Kirk) primary circle of friends, a group of people Spock referred to as the primary bridge crew. (At first the Princess didn't see why they were called this, seeing as there would hardly be any reason for a bridge on a ship. However, he was smart enough to figure out after all that the area before the main screen in which most of the important decisions were made was called the bridge.) That they had counterparts in his own country (his own world?) was…unsettling.

Other than Spock, Scotty and Bones, there was Sulu (who looked almost exactly like his father's General), Chekov (who bore a striking resemblance to the court's thaumaturge prodigy) and Uhura (identical to his mother's best friend and the court translator). The last seemed to take Jamesina under her wing (which tickled the others, for some reason), because she was the first to realise what only Bones had seen.

"Kep – ah, I mean, Princess. How old are you being?" Chekov asked, a little nervously. Sulu shot him an odd look from where he was standing beside him, but the Russian seemed to pay him no mind.

"My coming-of-age ceremony was celebrated in August." At the blank looks he received, Jamesina clarified. "Sixteen years."

Chekov gasped and Sulu's eyes grew wide, as did Scotty's. Even Spock was surprised, inasmuch Spock _could_ be surprised. Bones rolled his eyes, while Uhura didn't react at all.

Princess Whitelaw, not sure why such an admission was a surprise, shifted uncomfortably and tugged at the gold fabric of his new clothes. It was unfamiliar to his fingers, made of a material that had a name he couldn't remember. He'd been more comfortable in his own dress, but he'd agreed to change because Bones insisted it would make him stand out less. Well, that and it was improper to walk around in one's nightgown. (Still, the boots were nice.)

A gentle hand on his wrist snapped him out of his thoughts and stilled his unconscious pulling. He looked into Uhura's kind eyes. (She was only slightly shorter than him. Perhaps he would grow some more, it remained to be seen.) Uhura had been the one who'd found his current clothes. She wore similar clothes but in red. It was decidedly shorter than what Princess Whitelaw was accustomed to. Bones' reaction to it was raised eyebrows and "I didn't know they made those in gold."

"It only stretches to a certain point. If you're not careful, it'll stay stretched."

He managed a small smile, which she returned with interest.

"You are younger than I was vhen I joined zhe crew!" exclaimed Chekov.

"Yeah. And Pasha's only turning nineteen this year," said Sulu, seeming not to notice his companion's blush. (Princess Whitelaw wondered why this was. Why Chekov was blushing, not why Sulu was ignoring the fact.)

"It is of no consequence," Spock said, finally speaking. "The Princess is neither here as a member of Starfleet, nor is he a crewman of the _Enterprise_. Seeing as Starfleet Command has yet to send us instructions for our next mission, I propose (as acting Captain) that we devote our time devising how best to send the Princess home, and how to locate our Captain."

Princess Whitelaw solemnly went up to the Vulcan and hugged him. Spock immediately stiffened, either because he didn't like being hugged or didn't often receive them. Jamesina did not care which it was. He was touched that the Vulcan was willing to do so much for him, a stranger.

"Thank you," he said softly, before stepping back and looking around the room – the bridge, he corrected. "Thank all of you."

"Gratitude is illogical, Princess. No doubt the same courtesy would be extended to anyone in your predicament."

Princess Whitelaw didn't take offense mainly because of the tone he'd used. And, besides, he'd been around Spock long enough to glean that that was how he was. It was almost like he _knew_ Spock, as impossible as it sounded.

Someone coughed pointedly. All eyes turned to Scotty, who was grinning, unconcerned about the attention focused on him.

"Mr. Spock – tha is t'say, Cap'n – ah was just wond'ring, on account o' tha Princess being new ta tha Silver Lady, whether we could all officially welcome 'im."

Spock raised an eyebrow in an unspoken question.

"'Tis a human thing."

"If you deem it necessary," was the curt reply, and the Chief Engineer's smile widened, if that was possible.

Out of nowhere he produced a long-ish metal pole that could stand on its own and had a knob on the other end (a microphone and stand, for those of us from a significantly advanced timeline than the Princess'). Behind him Sulu stood with an odd lute (a guitar) while Chekov sat before what the Princess recognized as drums, though there were several of them and arranged in a way unfamiliar to him. Uhura joined Scotty, holding a tambourine, while Spock loosely gripped a harp.

Chekov struck the two sticks he held together in a sort of countdown, and then...they began.

"In the town where I was born," sang Scotty, "Lived a man who sailed in space. And he told us of his life, in the fleet o' th' Federation.

"So we sailed up to the sun, til we found the vacuum o' space. And we lived beneath th' stars, in our silver Enterprise."

Then everyone (excepting Spock, who's fingers were flying across the strings of his harp), sang together, "We all live in the starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise. We all live in the starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise!"

"And our friends are all on board, many more of them on other ships. And the band begins to play..."

"We all live in the starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise. We all live in the starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise!"

"Full speed ahead, Mr. Scotty, full speed ahead!" crooned Uhura.

"Full speed over here, ma'am!"

Sulu piped up, "Action station! Action station!"

"Aye, aye, sire, fire! Photons! Photons!

"As we live a life of ease, every one of us –"

"Every one of us –"

"Has all we need –"

"Has all we need –"

"Stars abound –"

"Stars abound –"

"And planets all o'er –"

"And planets all o'er –"

"In our silver –"

"In our silver –"

"Enterprise –"

"Enterprise, ha ha!"

"We all live in the starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise. We all live in the starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise! We all live in the starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise. We all live in the starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise!"

OoOoOoOoOo

In deep space, there were few ships. It was frequented by pirates and other unsavoury types, where it was easier to evade Starfleet patrols.

The particular ship that we are interested in did not consist of smugglers or their ilk – rather, its occupants were miners. Or, they had been. Or was it going to be? That's the trouble with time travel, it plays havoc with your tenses.

At any rate, if you were to travel about 200 years into the future, such a ship would have no business in deep space. It was a simple mining vessel, at least in its time. Now it dwarfed Federation ships and was better and more sophisticatedly equipped than the most modern of crafts.

It was a sight to inspire awe and fear, all jagged edges and oxidised-looking surfaces. Its crewmembers were the same – already they were hardy males and females (for I never said they were human), but all their lives had been affected by a single incident that had made them somewhat more...intimidating.

The most unstable of them all was their Captain, Nero. But don't let me describe him to you; I'll let you draw your own conclusions.

"My gallant crew, good morning," Nero called out.

Those with free hands saluted, but all answered, "Sir, good morning!"

"I hope you're all quite well."

"Quite well; and you, sir?"

"I am in reasonable health, and happy to meet you all once more."

"You do us proud, sir!"

Nero laughed, a little manically, and hopped down from his chair onto the work-floor below. "I am the Captain of the Narada –"

"And a right good captain, too!" the crew was quick to chime in.

"You're very, very good, and be it understood, I command a right good crew."

"We're very, very good, and be it understood, he commands a right good crew."

"Though originally a miner, through space I can steer, and red matter I have here; I'm never known to quail at the fury of a gale, and I'm never, never sick in space!"

"What, never?"

"No, never!"

"What, never?"

"Hmm." Nero made a show of rubbing his bald head. "Hardly ever!"

"He's hardly ever sick in space! Then give three cheers, and one cheer more, for the hardy Captain of the Narada! Then give three cheers, and one cheer more, for the Captain of the Narada!"

"I do my best to satisfy you all –"

"And with you we're quite content."

"You're exceedingly polite, and I think it only right to return the compliment."

"We're exceedingly polite, and he thinks it's only right to return the compliment."

"Bad language or abuse, I never, never use, whatever the emergency; though _yy'Ah'an_ I may occasionally say, I never use _yy'a Favi_!

"What, never?"

"No, never!"

"What, never?"

He looked sheepish now. "Well, hardly ever!"

"Hardly ever swears _yy'a Favi_! Then give three cheers, and one cheer more, for the well-bred Captain of the Narada! Then give three cheers, and one cheer more, for the Captain of the Narada!"

Yes.

OoOoOoOoOo

After the welcome, which Princess Whitelaw did appreciate, he had a meal in what was called the Mess (although it was no less clean than the rest of the ship). The 'replicators' were fascinating, managing to produce his favourite food, which comforted him somewhat. When it became clear that the stress of the day had caught him up again, this time in the form of exhaustion, Bones ordered he go to bed.

Jamesina downright balked at using the Captain's quarters, and instead took up Uhura's offer of using her bed. He also accepted her offer of singing him to sleep, despite the fact that he was sixteen and having someone tuck him in at that age should have been embarrassing. The fact of the matter was that his parents had taken it in turns to sing him to sleep during his younger years. Having Uhura's lovely voice lull him to sleep helped with the loneliness, a little.

When he awoke he was alone. Not one for sitting around idly, Princess Whitelaw decided to wander. He doubted he would get into much trouble. Eventually he found himself on the observation deck, and stared out at space and the stars within, absolutely enthralled.

That was how Spock found him.

"Princess?"

He turned, and had Spock been fully human he might have gasped at the way the action threw the Princess' features into sharp relief and made his eyes glow as if from within. He had not instructed for the lights on the deck to be increased (probably because he did not know how), and so the only light came from outside.

"Spock!" Jamesina smiled at the way the Vulcan had paused by the door, the perfect gentleman. "Come join me." He turned back to stare outside, and only spoke again once he felt the warm presence by his side. "It's beautiful."

He did not reply, but the Princess could sense his agreement. He surreptitiously studied him from out of the corner of his eye. The Vulcan had perfect posture, hands clasped loosely together at the small of his back. Not a strand of his black hair was out of place, and his uniform was...deliciously figure hugging.

Slightly embarrassed at thinking this, Princess Whitelaw flushed and returned his gaze to the celestial bodies in front of them.

If the Vulcan had noticed the scrutiny (and he had), he gave no indication. Instead he broke the silence with a query. "Do you not have stars in your homeland, Princess?"

A smile. "We do. It's just...I've never seen so many, so close."

Spock politely refrained from commenting that the stars surrounding them were still light-years away to be seen as pinpricks of light, whether from the surface of a planet or the observation deck of the ship. He had picked up a few things from interacting with humans for so long, after all.

The sound of the Vulcan's voice seemed to trigger something in the Princess' head. "Don't you sing, Mr. Spock?"

"Only...sometimes," he admitted slowly. "It is not a frivolity I indulge in often."

"Pity. I bet it'd be wonderful."

Spock definitely turned to look at him then. Jamesina tried his damndest to keep his gaze forward, and his face straight. But he'd been telling only the truth.

"...thank you, Jim. Princess."

"It's alright," he replied softly. "You can call me Jim."

Comfortable silence descended between them. Princess Whitelaw couldn't fathom why he had such a..._connection_ with Spock. He did not question his attraction to the Vulcan – even a blind person would admit that he was beyond handsome. This was more mental compatibility, even though he and the Princess were from such different worlds. He knew, for example, that he would do anything for Spock, to see him happy. He wondered, now, if that worked both ways.

"Are you sure I'll be able to get back home?" Jamesina asked, for the first time unsure if he actually wanted to leave.

Spock didn't answer until the Princess turned to meet his gaze. "Yes. I am quite confident of this. Mr. Scott has told me that the transporter room will be ready in exactly 1.27 hours. We will attempt to send you home then."

He felt a lump in his throat. "Why're you doing this for me?"

"It is the right thing to do." It seemed like that was all he was going to say on the matter, when Spock abruptly looked down, almost...shy. "Also, Jim, I –"

Suddenly, the ship lurched to the side. Princess Whitelaw stumbled into Spock's solid chest. The Vulcan caught him neatly, being more used to this sort of thing. They were bathed in the auxiliary lights as the red alert sounded.

"Excuse me, Princess," said Spock as soon as Jamesina was on his feet. "I am needed on the bridge." He ran out.

Without thinking about it, Princess Whitelaw followed. It was a good thing that the Starfleet certified uniform for female officers, whether or not gold, were conducive to running.

OoOoOoOoOo

"Status, Mr. Sulu."

"Shields are at 69 percent, Captain. Their torpedoes clipped the starboard side, but we managed to destroy the rest of them."

"Com – Keptin, I am thinking zhat it is Romulan ship!"

Spock turned his head to survey the curly-haired Navigations Officer. "Romulan?"

Before Chekov could answer, Uhura spoke up, her tone clipped. "Sir, they're hailing us."

"Patch it through, Lieutenant."

Only Princess Whitelaw was unfamiliar with the face that graced the viewscreen. The rest of the crew either set their jaws or narrowed their eyes or did nothing at all, according to their natures. Jamesina felt a shiver run down his spine when he looked into those cruel black eyes and the alien-looking markings on his face.

"Hello, Spock."

"Nero." Without letting an ounce of emotion seep into his voice, Spock seemed to inject disdain and hatred into two syllables. Or perhaps it was only Princess Whitelaw that had picked up on that.

"So nice to see all of you again. Though I'm quite sure James T. Kirk was not in women's clothing the last time."

The Vulcan didn't rise to the bait, didn't even let his eyes flicker to the Princess. "Nero, you are wanted by the Federation for the attempted attack on a Federation planet, and –"

"Oh, don't be boring. We both know I'm not going to come quietly. I see you've upgraded your weapons. I've made a few of my own. I don't want to have to use them on your ship. Just board a shuttle. I'll take care of the rest."

Chekov and Sulu exchanged glances, while Uhura surreptitiously took the Princess' hand and squeezed it.

Spock's reply was cool. "What do you hope to gain by my presence?"

"Well, then I will acquire the codes for Vulcan's defence systems. If you remember correctly, and you should, that was the only thing that stood in the way of your planet's destruction."

"I will not wilfully abet attempts to –"

Nero sighed. "Fine. I guess I would like to show off the _Narada_'s new features. Feature one; forced transmission. Ayel, hit it."

Immediately the bridge was swamped with loud music, a mixture of electronic guitar and other sounds that were foreign to the Princess' ears. Then voices filtered in – probably 'Ayel' and the crew of the _Narada_.

"_Everybody...better give up... Everybody, better give up right. Nero's back, alright!_"

"Lieutenant, shut the transmission!"

"I'm trying, Spock!" Uhura said agitatedly, having let go of Princess Whitelaw's hand and pressing various buttons at her station. "It's not working!"

The music seemed to start in earnest now, with Ayel's voice clearly heard over the background.

"_By the gods, we're back again. Starfleet officers, everybody scream. We're gonna bring the wipeout, show you how. I've gotta question for ya, better answer now. Yeah._

"_Are we original? (Yeah) Are we the only ones? (Yeah) Are we Romulans? (Yeah) Are we everything you fear, you better give up now –_

"_Everybody, yeah...better give up, yeah...Everybody, better give up right. Nero's back, alright! Alright!"_

"_Now throw your hands up in the air, and wave 'em around like you're shit scared. If you wanna surrender let me hear you yell, 'cause we got it goin' on again. Yeah, yeah, yeah –"_

"_Are we original? (Yeah) Are we the only ones? (Yeah) Are we Romulans? (Yeah) Are we everything you fear, you better give up now –_

"_Everybody, yeah...better give up, yeah...Everybody, better give up right. Nero's back, alright! Alright!"_

Nero's voice came over the ship's speakers, even though both Uhura and Chekov were working on shutting it out. Even Scotty was trying down in Engineering; apparently Nero was transmitting to the whole ship. The _whole_ ship. "Feature two; a tractor beam. We will have your ship in our docking bay, kill everyone – but you, Spock – and we will torture the codes out of you. Unless you cooperate now, of course."

"_Everybody, yeah...better give up, yeah...Everybody, better give up right. (Better give up right). Nero's back, everybody – Better give up! Better give up! Better give up! Everybody better give up, better give up. Better give up! Everybody!_

"_Nero's back, alright!"_

OoOoOoOoOo

"Keptin, I cannot...I cannot –"

"I understand, Ensign." Spock flipped open his communicator. "Mr. Scott."

"Aye, Cap'n?" He sounded harried and slightly disbelieving, as if he hadn't foreseen the possibility of something technical flummoxing him. "Wha' can ah do fer yeh?"

"Is it possible for you to circumvent this tractor beam Nero was referring to?" For some reason, Spock's eyes had met and held the Princess'. He looked utterly lost, and there was a hint of panic under his carefully constructed veneer of bravado. He was not very much like Jim Kirk, it was now obvious.

There came the sound of tapping keys, swearing, shouts at Keenser who shouted rude things back in his native tongue, and then Scotty replied, "Tha'd be a no, Mr. Spock. E's got us well enough."

"Acknowledged." Spock snapped the communicator closed, his other hand gripping the railing tightly. When he released it, Jamesina noticed that there were indentations where his fingers had been. "Fire phasers."

"Aye sir!"

"Mr. Sulu, try to bring the Enterprise out of range of the tractor beam. Forward shields at maximum."

"Yessir!"

The ship shuddered and lurched as Sulu wrestled with the controls. The phaser bursts connected with the hull of the _Narada_, but seemed to do little damage. Princess Whitelaw involuntarily moved to stand beside Spock, and they both stared out of the viewscreen as the _Enterprise_ put shot after ineffective shot into the Romulan ship.

A sigh came over the ship's speakers. "Feature three, then."

The _Narada_ fired three torpedoes.

The _Enterprise_ managed to destroy two with phaser fire and photon torpedoes. Just barely.

The remaining torpedo thudded into the Silver Lady. Starboard side.

"Shields are dropping! One more hit like that and the hull will be in worse shape than it is now!"

"I am issuing general order thirteen." Spock met the eyes of all those looking at him, ending with the Princess. "Evacuate this ship."

"Spock, you can't –"

"It is done." He went to the Captain's chair and pressed a button. The chime for shipwide broadcast sounded, followed almost immediately by music – not from Nero, though.

Princess Whitelaw was stunned when Spock started _singing_.

"Turn up the shields, let's get out of the bridge. If you do not move it, then you better watch out. Watch me getting physical, out of control – there're humans watching me. I never miss a beat."

Someone tried to interrupt, but Spock merely gave them his trademark eyebrow raised, which got her to shut up pretty quickly.

"Still your mouths, kill the lights, feel it under your skin. Time is right, keep it tight, 'cause it's pulling us in. Wrap it up, can't warp 'cause it feels like a tractor beam (Feels like a tractor beam) –

"Oh, oh, evacuate the Enterprise, oh, oh, Nero is out of control. Oh, oh, stop, our phasers do not work. Hey, Mr. Sulu initiate evasive pattern Delta Five.

"(Everybody on the ship!) Oh, oh, evacuate the Enterprise, oh, oh, Nero is out of control. Oh, oh, stop, our phasers do not work. Hey, Dr. McCoy fulfil your duties as our CMO."

(At this point a comm came in from the Medical Bay. It was filled with much profanity which was rather drowned out by the music, even if it was Bones doing the swearing, so we will not pay it much heed.)

"My body's aching, system overload. Emotions rising I'm about to explode. Watch me I'm compromised, emotionally. He's got me tempestuous. Everybody step aside.

"Still your mouths, kill the lights, feel it under your skin. Time is right, keep it tight, 'cause it's pulling us in. Wrap it up, can't warp 'cause it feels like a tractor beam (Feels like a tractor beam) –

"Oh, oh, evacuate the Enterprise, oh, oh, Nero is out of control. Oh, oh, stop, our phasers do not work. Hey, Mr. Sulu initiate evasive pattern Delta Five.

"(Everybody on the ship!) Evacuate the Enterprise, oh, oh, Nero is out of control. (Everybody on the ship!) Oh, oh, stop, our phasers do not work. Hey, Dr. McCoy fulfil your duties as our CMO.

"Come on and evacuate, feel the ship is heating up. Still, try to accelerate, push it to the max. Come on and evacuate, feel the ship is heating up. Still, try to accelerate, you don't have to be afraid."

Now Scotty broke in. It was not apparent whether he was singing at the top of his voice or had boosted the volume. This is also an unimportant, digressive fact.

"Now guess who's back with a brand new plan, that got everybody in the ship in danger? So everybody in the back get your arses into shuttles and just get away. But I'll not leave ye, Silver Lady – let me see yer ample nacelles. Now drop it down low, low, let me see you take it to warp seven, yo!"

"(Everybody on the ship!) Evacuate the Enterprise. (Everybody on the ship!) Nero is out of control. (Everybody on the ship!) Stop, our phasers do not work. Hey, Mr. Sulu initiate evasive pattern Delta Five.

"Oh, oh, evacuate the Enterprise, oh, oh, Nero is out of control. Oh, oh, stop, our phasers do not work. Hey, Mr. Sulu initiate evasive pattern Delta Five.

"(Everybody on the ship!) Oh, oh, evacuate the Enterprise, oh, oh, Nero is out of control. (Everybody on the ship!) Oh, oh, stop, our phasers do not work. Hey, Dr. McCoy fulfil your duties as our CMO."

Most of the ship was deserted by now, which was good, as it was still taking damage from the torpedoes the _Enterprise_ couldn't obliterate. Engineering was completely empty save for Scotty and Keenser, the former apparently being terrifying when 'his' Lady was in danger, and the latter stubborn and used to his friend's moods. McCoy was yelling at the nurses to leave it and go, dammit woman, I'm a doctor, not a martyr, I'll be right behind you! None of the bridge crew moved an inch, but to be fair, they were trying to buy time for the escaping shuttles, and trying to damage the _Narada_ while avoiding damage.

No one suggested that Princess Whitelaw go. It had little to do with the fact that he looked startlingly like their AWOL Captain, and more to do with the fierce expression on his face.

The _Narada_ fired again. Not a torpedo, some other kind of weapon, one too advanced to have an accurate description. Its impact with the _Enterprise_ (as even the photon torpedoes were ineffective against it) made a worrying sound as the ship pitched to the side, unbalancing many.

"Cap'n!" The voice was Scotty's, although it was hard to tell over all the white noise. "E's – _krrrsh_ – warp drive! Knocked it ou – _krxsrshh_ –"

Princess Whitelaw only noticed the tiny shoulder slump because he'd been staring at Spock. He touched the Vulcan's arm.

"Spock, no."

He didn't even look up. "Nero. I surrender."

"Good! I did say I wanted you alive." The Romulan captain's face had reappeared on the viewscreen. His grin was grotesque, at least to the Princess' eyes.

"You will spare the lives of my crew."

He made a show of thinking about it, although the _Narada_ had already stopped firing. "Well, since your warp drive's been disabled...fine. As long as you come aboard quietly and give me what I want." Nero flapped a hand dismissively. "Get your toadies to clear the space around you so we can beam you aboard."

Spock gazed at him steadily. "I will require time to deliver final orders and appoint a new captain."

The grin grew. "Since I'm generous, take ten minutes." His face winked out of view, and the constant hum that had been playing in the background since the _Narada_ had forced transmission on them.

"Spock, this is crazy!" Uhura cried. "Do you really think –"

"Nyota. My safety is of no importance." He eyed her briefly before turning to the helmsman. "Mr. Sulu. You are now Captain. If it is possible for Mr. Scott to repair the engines, then proceed to the Laurentian system with all due haste. Lieutenant Uhura, contact Starfleet to apprise them of the situation. I will attempt to stall Nero, but it is only a matter of time until they reach my planet. It is imperative that you group with the fleet to balance the terms of the next engagement. Before Nero attacks another Federation planet."

Everyone looked ready to argue with this, but Jamesina got there first.

"Spock, you can't do that, listen to me!" He grabbed both of Spock's arms, uncaring of whether it was a faux pas or not. "He's going to kill you. We have to try to –"

"Princess, you are not from here. You do not understand."

Jamesina flinched at the tone he was using. Somehow it was devoid of the warmth it'd had when they'd been alone on the observation deck.

"There are billions of lives at stake here, not merely my own. The needs of the many outweigh the need of the few...or the one. My life pales in comparison to the billions of Vulcans Nero seeks to kill."

Princess Whitelaw felt his heart clench at those words, but couldn't explain why. "But you can't, you _can't_, I –" And here the words wouldn't flow. "I –"

"I apologise, Princess, for not seeing you sent home safely." He looked like he was about to say something else, but abruptly turned his head away. This was clearly a dismissal, and Uhura gently pulled Jamesina away. He struggled.

"Spock –"

Nero's voice sounded, interrupting whatever Princess Whitelaw had been about to say. "Well, it's not ten minutes, but the _Narada_'s ready for warp. Let's go."

Spock held up his hand in the Vulcan salute. "Live long and –"

"NO!"

Princess Whitelaw actually managed to catch him by surprise, because the push got Spock to stagger back a few steps. The Vulcan couldn't keep the astonishment off his face as he stared at the empty space where the young human had been standing.

"Well, well. James Kirk – hero to the end, aren't you?" Nero's laugh was unpleasant. "This might be even better. You should know the subspace frequency for planet Earth. Thank you, Spock. This might be the only time for you to say goodbye to whatever family you have."

As abruptly as it had arrived (and attacked the Federation flagship), the _Narada_ disappeared, having gone into warp.

There was utter silence on the bridge, save the still continuing wail of red alert, and the crackle of electricity from damaged consoles, and the hum of the engines. Some people were looking out at what was now empty space. Most eyes, however, were on their Vulcan science officer. His arm was thrown out, and the expression on his face heartbreaking.

Nero had taken Princess Whitelaw.

OoOoOoOoOo

Unbetaed, but I'm sure I caught *most* of the spelling/grammar errors.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek. I don't own Princess Whitelaw, either the real one (rawr) or the fictional one of the children's book series (that belongs to natatas), but I do own this particular aspect of him. I don't own King Natatas and Queen Lamama, nor do I own Lady Gaga. I don't own the title of this story, but I did come up with the plot by myself. I don't own the songs mentioned in this story, though I do own the time used to butcher them. Are you getting a sense of what I do and do not own yet?

Act I. Because this story is about a third of the way through, and I don't want to have to put you through such a long chunk of story. So instead I give you a cliffhanger. My anonymous reviews are enabled, so don't be shy to leave a review.

Seriously. Don't be shy.

Anila.


	2. Act II

**Act II**

When he'd been about five summers old, Princess Whitelaw had fallen into a well. It was not a particularly deep well, but he had been small as a child. The circle of sunlight had looked especially far away. It had not helped that his dress had been soaked through, and he'd been cold, and his overactive imagination had him jumping and pressing himself closer to the wall at every splash and shifting shadow.

Luckily, a young man eventually heard his sobbing and got him out of the well. He'd given the Princess one of his sister's dresses to wear, fed him hot broth, and brought him back up to the palace and his worried parents. Leonard McCoy's actions did not go unrewarded. He was offered an apprenticeship with the then-Head Healer, and given a place in the palace, effectively making him brother to the Princess.

The _Narada_ reminded Princess Jamesina Whitelaw of his time in the well, with two significant differences; one, the temperature in the Narada was incredibly warm and humid – it was bad enough that there was water soaking into the clothes Uhura had given him, but he was sweating on top of it – and; two, there was definitely no Bones to rescue him.

He had been shackled as soon as he'd been – beamed, was it? – aboard the ship. The crew leered at him in his ridiculously short dress, or muttered unflattering words in a language foreign to him, or merely glared at him balefully. The Princess was less frightened of these actions than the blankness he saw in their eyes. The dim lighting in the _Narada_ twisted the tattoos and made them look more malevolent.

"You're shorter than I remember," remarked Nero as the Princess was strapped into a horizontal piece of metal. The Romulan captain looked pointedly at his exposed thighs and calves. "Or maybe that's just the uniform."

Princess Whitelaw gritted his teeth. He dared not even deny being Captain Kirk. If Nero realised this, then he would only go back to get Spock. His sacrifice would be in vain.

_The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few...or the one_.

Spock had been right. He was an outsider, he didn't belong here. Therefore, the Princess' absence would not be missed in this world.

He refused to wonder whether or not it would be missed by the Vulcan. Thoughts like that were irrelevant. And it hurt to consider that the answer could be a _no_.

"Now, James, if you don't cooperate, I'll simply turn back and kill all your crewmembers. You wouldn't want that, would you?" Nero correctly interpreted the blue-eyed glare levelled at him as a 'No'. (To be honest, the actual words the Princess wanted to convey involved no fewer than six swearwords, but let's stick with 'No'.) "Good. Now, I need the codes for Vulcan's defence grid. And the subspace –"

The Princess interrupted him, his voice bolder than he actually felt. "Why're you doing this?"

Nero, who had been staring into space – not literally, seeing as there were no 'windows' where they were – whipped his head around to stare at Jamesina. Although his face betrayed shock, he did not respond.

"What did Spock do to you?" Jamesina frowned and instinctively and ineffectively pulled at his wrist bonds. "What the _Hell_ did he do to deserve this?"

There was an amused smile on Nero's face. "He didn't tell you. Of all people, he didn't tell _you_."

"Why should he have?" spat the Princess. "He's a Vulcan." Instinct was telling him to play up their enmity. That way Nero couldn't use Spock against him. He couldn't be allowed to find out the depth of Jamesina's feelings for Spock. Not when he himself had no clue.

_Don't think about that, Whitelaw. Not now. Not. Now._

The insane laugh made his teeth hurt.

"Well, well, my coming _did_ change a few things. In my time, it is rumoured that you and he –" Nero abruptly broke off as he strolled around the table and out of Princess Whitelaw's line of sight. "It matters not. Still, it will take us some time for us to reach Vulcan, even with our current speed." Jamesina felt fingers in his hair, and furiously tried to jerk his head away. He cried out when Nero tightened his grip. "Sit still, James, or I'll change my mind."

The Princess obligingly halted his movements. He clenched his jaw tightly enough for his molars to hurt when Nero's head swam into view.

"You know very well I am from the future. And that Vulcans live longer than you humans. Maybe it was your absence that did it. But when Spock was tasked with saving my planet...he _failed_."

Nero abruptly went, pushing away from the table. The water sloshed around his feet as he walked away and flicked a switch angrily. The image of a beautiful woman, heavy with child flickered into life in front of the Princess' eyes. At the same time, music blared into life.

The Romulan, fingers clenched around the edges of the metal surface, anguish and heartbreak plain on his tattooed face and the glittering tears in his black eyes.

"So much for my happy ending! Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh...

"Let's talk this over, it's not like you're dead (yet). It was something he did, though save my planet he'd said. I was left hanging, o'er a city so dead; held up so high, on such a faraway ship (faraway ship).

"He was all the things I thought I knew, and I thought he'd succeed –"

Again Nero turned away, this time clutching his head between his two hands, fingertips digging into the skin behind his ears.

"He was everything, everything that was needed. He was meant to save my wife, but I lost her; and all the memories, so close to me, can't fade away... All this time I have been waiting, so much for my happy ending. Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh. So much for my happy ending. Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh..."

With his captor looking in the other direction, Princess Whitelaw tested his bonds, hoping that the music would mask any rattling. He started to feel the strain in his shoulders, when Nero turned around, finger pointed dramatically.

"You've got your dumb 'Fleet, I know what they say. They tell you I'm difficult, but so are they. But they don't know he, let all my people die. All the things you hide from me, I'll eventually get that code.

"He was all the things I thought I knew, and I thought he'd succeed –

"He was everything, everything that was needed. He was meant to save my wife, but I lost her; and all the memories, so close to me, can't fade away... All this time I have been waiting, so much for my happy ending.

"It's nice to know that Spock'll be there, as I vaporise his planet, then I know I'm not the only one. It's nice to know he had it all, and'll have to watch his planet fall – now gimme those codes, and we'll be done."

_Almost there_, thought Jamesina. His right hand would soon be free.

"He was everything, everything that was needed. He was meant to save my wife, but I lost her. And all the memories, so close to me, can't fade away... All this time I have been waiting, so much for my happy ending. He was everything, everything that was needed. He was meant to save my wife, but I lost her. And all the memories, so close to me, can't fade away... All this time I have been waiting, so much for my happy ending. Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh. So much for my happy ending.

"Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-_oh_, oh-oh..."

Just as his fingers slipped free of the shackle, the music stopped. More importantly, however, Nero's hand came down on the offending wrist. He leaned over so his face loomed over the Princess'.

"Slippery little thing, aren't you?" His fingers tightened, causing the carpals of Princess Whitelaw's right hand to grind together. It hurt like the bloody hellfires. He merely grinned at Jamesina's grimace of pain. "What, Ayel?"

The Princess hadn't noticed the other Romulan standing at a respectful distance away. His features were more angular than Nero's, and the way he carried himself showed that he was most likely the second-in-command on the _Narada_.

"_Prod_ Nero, we will arrive at Vulcan in exactly 3.6 hours."

The only acknowledgement Nero gave to that was the widening of his grin. "So are you going to cooperate, James?"

He pressed his lips together tightly. What he could he say? He didn't even actually know the codes Nero was asking for.

Nero raised an eyebrow. "James?"

The Princess barely refrained from saying, 'My name is _Jamesina_.' Barely.

Nero straightened, and re-cuffed his wrist. The warm metal bit into the sensitive skin there, and Jamesina couldn't help but hiss.

"Well, then." He looked at Ayel. "Bring the Centaurion Slugs."

OoOoOoOoOo

"Mr. Scott, report."

"We were very lucky, Cap'n. Ah managed to get th' warp drive back online, even gave it a wee boost wi' th' help o' young Mr. Chekov here, but ah'm not a miracle worker. Th' Silver Lady needs serious repairs – there's no way we can go against tha' – tha' – _Squid Ship_ an' come out alive." The Chief Engineer's voice dropped. "Ah'm sorry ta say, laddie, even though we can prob'ly get ta Vulcan in time, we cannae stop Nero."

"Very well. Set a course for the Laurentian system, full speed."

Spock almost didn't notice Nyota follow him into the turbolift, he was _that_ out of it. As soon as the doors soundlessly shut behind them, she stopped it. She stood with the controls at her back, presumably so he wouldn't be able to get at them. The Vulcan briefly thought that this was illogical, seeing as his superior strength (regardless of whether or not he was going to use it) would mean that she would not prove much of a barrier.

Her eyes were sad. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry."

"What incident do you feel responsible for, Nyota?"

Nyota's eyes flashed. "Don't be obtuse, Spock. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

He stared straight ahead, avoiding her glare. "The Princess made his choice."

"You can't possibly pretend that _you_ don't feel responsible. Not to me. I know you, Spock. Why else would you offer yourself up to save the ship?"

In spite of himself, Spock felt the corner of his mouth quirk up. "That is the Captain's influence."

Uhura's long ponytail swished to and fro as she shook her head. "But Kirk wouldn't be running to the rest of the fleet."

He clasped his hands at the small of his back. "What would you have me do, Nyota?" His voice was low, but still free of emotion. He was not that compromised. (Not yet.) "I am not Jim. He is not here."

"He wouldn't leave Jamesina to get killed by Nero! You said it yourself – he isn't from here. How long do you think it's gonna take for him to figure that out? How long do you think the Princess will survive when Nero arrives at Vulcan with no way to get past the defence grids?"

Spock closed his eyes. His lips barely moved when he finally replied, but Nyota had been his best student. She heard every word.

"If I go after the Princess then I will have to defer to Starfleet Regulation six-one-nine."

Uhura took two steps forward, closer to her friend. She wanted to make sure. "Because of the threat to your people...or because of him?"

She almost thought he would answer. Instead he reopened his eyes, neatly stepped around her and restarted the turbolift. Within a second they had reached the appropriate deck and he stalked out, not looking back.

This was all the confirmation Uhura needed. She ran after him, because although the _Enterprise_ was still largely empty – only a few of the evacuating shuttles had been recovered so far – it would not do to shout out her conclusion for everyone to hear; especially when dealing with a Vulcan like Spock.

"You're in love with him." Her voice was quiet, assured.

She only knew that he heard her because his steps faltered slightly. That was enough to show her how affected he really was – no one who was so in control of himself would have stumbled.

Still he kept walking, kept ignoring her. His long strides had her half-jogging to keep up, until they finally reached the observation deck. Spock seemed surprised that they had ended up there, showing how distracted he'd been. Nyota merely increased the lights and closed the doors. As she did so, music filtered in through the speakers on the deck.

Spock's reaction to this was so square his shoulders and stare out at the stars and planets streaking past.

The Lieutenant's voice was soft and sweet.

"Your heart is broken, to your surprise. You're sick of thinking, of blue eyes. So tired of living; misunderstood. Think hard Vulcan, I think you should.

"Come, sorrow is so peculiar. It comes in a day, then it'll never leave you. You meditate, wonder if it will fix you. Then wonder why sorrow has never left you –

"I'm talkin' 'bout blue eyes, blue eyes, what's the matter, matter, blue eyes, blue eyes, what's the matter, matter; so blind, so blind, what's the matter, matter – blue eyes, blue eyes, what's the matter with you?"

She reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder, trying to gauge his mood. His face was more unreadable than it usually was, and he neither welcomed nor rejected her touch.

"Ohh, you'll wind up broken, at the end of the round. Won't find your spirit, in a lost and found. Oh, I've been watching, how you behave. Not much like a Captain – more like a Terran. Come, sorrow is so peculiar. It comes in a day, then it'll never leave you. You meditate, wonder if it will fix you. Then wonder why sorrow has never left you –

"I'm talkin' 'bout blue eyes, blue eyes, what's the matter, matter, blue eyes, blue eyes, what's the matter, matter; so blind, so blind, what's the matter, matter – blue eyes, blue eyes, what's the matter with...

"Blue eyes, blue eyes, what's the matter, matter, blue eyes, blue eyes, what's the matter, matter; so blind, so blind, what's the matter, matter – blue eyes, blue eyes, what's the matter with you?"

Her fingers tightened their grip, and his eyes closed. Finally, a reaction!

"What's the matter with you?"

The music dwindled, only the piano and guitar heard. Spock drew in a shuddering breath.

"What's the matter with you?" Nyota whispered.

OoOoOoOoOo

Now, Dr. Leonard 'Bones' McCoy was not a tactician (he was a doctor, dammit), despite the fact that he was Jim's go-to guy when it came to advice, right after Spock. Still, he had more than enough common sense to accede that the best option that the _Enterprise_ had with its hull and shield capability damaged and its weaponry outmatched was to get the message out to Starfleet and attack in bulk. It didn't take a genius to figure _that_ out.

Which was why he was more than confused when Spock, who _was_ a genius (or had been, anyway), ordered that they pursue the _Narada_ to Vulcan.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"I welcome it."

"Do you?" Bones asked sarcastically. He didn't wait for an answer. "Okay. _Are you out of your Vulcan mind_?"

"Hardly, Leonard."

He hated it when the hobgoblin used his first name, mostly because he used it without a shred of irony. It was meant as a sign of respect for the human need for informality (or, at least, Jim Kirk's need for informality), though any outsider would immediately deduce that respect was not present in their relationship.

Still, it was better than 'Len'. One of his ex-wife's friends had tried to call him that. Luckily modern day hypos left no mark, and no one had remembered him jabbing it into the idiot's neck. Sure, he'd tried to blame McCoy for his two-week bout of the runs, but how could he prove it?

"Then care to explain why we've performed an about turn to certain death?"

He was sure that if Jim were here he'd have told him that he was being melodramatic.

Spock seemed to pick up on his thoughts – probably some Vulcan voodoo. "Were Jim here, we would be doing the same thing, Leonard, and you would not doubt him."

Bones made a frustrated sound. "That's not the point, man. You saw what that ship did to us!"

"I do concede that the _Narada _technologically outmatches any Federation vessel. However, Mr. Scott has enhanced the warp yield –"

"Oh, so we can _outrun_ them, but we can't outgun them." He rolled his eyes. "That's real comforting."

If he'd been talking to a human, then they would have been annoyed, or at least looked impatient. All this damned Vulcan did was look at him with that maddeningly neutral expression he always had. "I still do not see how you managed to infer that my cognitive functions are in any way damaged."

His mouth twisted. In fact, he'd have to admit that Spock looked, well, calmer, saner even, than he had previously. Which was odd, because he had fewer emotions than a robot.

"Not ten minutes ago you said the _logical_ thing to do was to regroup. Now we're on an _illogical_ suicide mission. You tell me that's your usual modus operandi."

"I will admit to be additionally motivated, yes."

Bones glared at him suspiciously. "And what by? This isn't about your planet, I can tell."

He inclined his head slightly. A human might have nodded. "You recall that the Princess has been taken."

He did. He could clearly see him, younger than Jim – the Jim of this dimension – had been when they'd first met, looking terrified out of his wits and utterly, utterly lost. It was a blow to lose him, but he would have thought that Spock had written the Princess off as a victim of war, or at least a hostage.

"A rescue mission?" asked Bones incredulously. "What happened to all that 'needs of the many' bullshit?"

"I believe that the Princess is the key to getting our Captain back."

The doctor sagged, the wind having been knocked out of his sails. He hadn't considered that. "But we'll still be outmatched. Nero'll butcher us before we can beam Jim out – if we _can_ beam him out."

"Mr. Scott has informed me of a prototype weapon he and the Captain were working on. I have the remaining engineering and science crew working on it as we speak. I was on my way to join them."

Bones noticed the unheard "before _you_ accosted me like the irrational human you are".

"What weapon is this?" He wanted to be prepared for whatever carnage it would cause to better anticipate what injuries would result. And carnage was a polite word for what any brainchild of Jim _and_ Scotty could produce.

"It is not unlike the electromagnetic pulse weaponry used on pre-warp Earth. The projectile Mr. Scott and Jim have designed is intended to focus the pulse in one direction. If we can knock out the electronics on the _Narada_, then it may prove sufficient for us to retrieve the Princess and disable the ship. If you will excuse me, Leonard."

He scowled at the retreating back. Pointy-eared, green-blooded bastard.

OoOoOoOoOo

"Ayel!"

Not a one of the crew of the _Narada_ envied the second-in-command. _Prod_ Nero had been in a foul mood ever since the interrogation of the Captain of the Enterprise – or the human they'd thought was Captain Kirk – alternatively furious and tickled pink.

Let's just ignore the fact that Romulans do not have red blood – rather, theirs is yellow – and therefore cannot be pink. Possibly unless poisoned. But I digress.

"Sir?"

"Where's the prisoner?" Nero spat. Ah, so he was angry.

"In the brig, sir."

"Bring him."

"Sir." Ayel did not bother questioning this order. Never mind that he'd been ferrying the 'Princess' to and fro for the past hour. The Captain was in a worse state than he'd been when they'd first come through the black hole. At least then he'd listened to reason.

Princess Jamesina Whitelaw – certainly not Captain James Tiberius Kirk – sat huddled at the corner farthest from the laser gridded entrance. There was grease and dirt on his face, save for where tears had run down his cheeks. His hair stood in uneven spikes slicked up by sweat. His arms were locked around his knees, giving anyone who looked a clear view of his wrists, which were bruised and chafed bloody. His blue eyes were dull, lifeless. Dead.

If he had seen this human twenty-five standard years ago, then he would have pitied him. Perhaps even given some sort of medical aid, with the excuse of not wanting the wounds to fester. But twenty-five years ago, his family had been alive. Pity was not an emotion he partook of now.

His mother had been so proud of him, choosing honest labour. Especially after they'd lost his oldest brother Sirol to Orion smugglers – such an ironic fate, considering Rihannsu origins. And his bondmate, Maiek, beautiful, dark haired Maiek. He was supposed to have returned to their home, twenty-five years ago. Unfortunately, they had not yet fulfilled their quota. _Prod_ Nero had instructed that they stay one more week.

Maiek had smiled. He'd understood. "How could I be angry with you, Ayel?" he'd asked. "Your work makes you happy."

Quite frankly, Ayel would have rather been at home with his bondmate than work. He did not say so, however, and instead was grateful that being second-in-command gave him such perks as personal transmissions.

"Little Isha would like to know if you like our present." Maiek had held up their adopted daughter, who waved excitedly at her father.

"I love it," he'd said, fingering the cuff. It had both Maiek' and Isha's names engraved into the square of copper set into the leather.

It was then that the transmission had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

Ayel had heard an alarm blaring in the distance, and everything was shaking. Isha had been crying, while Maiek tried in vain to calm her down.

"What's happening?" Ayel had demanded, gripping the console tightly.

"That's the – Ayel, we must evacuate!"

"Why?"

"I do not know. Come, Isha. Hush now, cease your crying." He'd cuddled her to his chest, though his worried eyes held Ayel's.

"Be safe, Maiek," Ayel had said.

A brave smile. "_I-jol au_."

The transmission had ended then. Later they'd found out that Romulus had sent a distress signal, because of the star gone supernova. And although they'd raced back to their planet, they had not arrived in time. Romulus – his family, his mother, Isha, _Maiek_ – had been destroyed.

A sniffle brought Ayel back to the present, and he closed his eyes. He could feel the weight of the cuff under his tunic, though he never looked at it. The pain had never dulled over time – if anything it grew stronger. He, like the others on the _Narada_, kept his head shaved in mourning. The markings on his face served as a reminder of what he'd lost. What they'd all lost.

He deactivated the lasers and hauled the Princess to his feet. He was uncaring of the hiss of pain when he cuffed his hands behind his back, uncaring of the tears that had started again as he shoved the human towards the door, presumably to more gratuitous torture.

No, he no longer felt pity. That part of him had died, along with his daughter and his bondmate.

_I-jol au_.

OoOoOoOoOo

In point of fact, there was – luckily for the Princess – no more torture. All Nero did when the human was forced to his knees before him was survey him wordlessly. Ayel stood just behind Princess Whitelaw, with a hand on his neck, ready to snap his spine should it be asked of him.

"How does it feel, Jamesina," asked Nero, "to sacrifice yourself for the Vulcan you love, and then find out he doesn't care enough about you to save you?"

Since this was a rhetorical question – and since they'd injected him with a serum that killed off the Centaurion slug or whatever it was that made him tell the truth – Jamesina did not answer. It did not, however, lessen the hurt he felt. Not the physical hurt, even if his wrists had started bleeding again. No, the mental hurt.

As selfish as it sounded, it (**censored**) hurt that Spock wasn't there.

Nero sighed. "I'm not sure whether I should kill you or not."

Ayel's fingers tightened slightly in preparation.

"After all, you've delayed my revenge. Doubtless Spock has already scuttled back to his Starfleet, coward that he is. I could always use you as bait, but if Spock doesn't want you I don't see why the Federation would. Decisions, decisions..."

"_Prod_ Nero!"

The Romulan looked up at the newcomer. "What is it, Delon?"

"Sir, a Federation ship approaches. It is the _Enterprise_!"

Nero laughed. "So! That Vulcan does have feelings, the fool. This will be interesting. Prepare to fire torpedoes," he said, dismissing Delon with a wave of his hand.

Princess Whitelaw desperately tried not to show any reaction, although he was wondering what in the Hell Spock was thinking.

"Ayel, come! Bring _His Highness_ to the bridge. This will be most entertaining."

On the viewscreen, the _Enterprise_ looked a state. What did Spock hope to achieve by coming after him? He was insane!

This hypothesis was further proved when they fired. None of the crew of the _Narada_ had expected it, and so they didn't manage to destroy the – honestly – tiny projectile. The larboard deflector shields hadn't yet come back online – they had to be powered down for warp travel – and so whatever it was that had been shot at them connected.

The drone that ran through the length of the _Narada_ abruptly decreased, as if –

"Sir, our weapons system and port engines are offline!"

"Shields are down!" another Romulan shouted.

Nero slammed his fist into the arm of his chair. "Get them back on!"

A tiny flame of hope flared into life in Princess Whitelaw's soul.

"They're hailing us!"

The Captain gave a nod, sitting forward. Jamesina turned his head (aware of the fingers still wrapped around the back of his neck) in time to see Spock's face fill the screen. His heart leapt to his throat.

"Nero. Surrender your vessel and allow us to take you into custody."

"Spock, what a surprise. Why have you decided to return?"

The Vulcan ignored the question. "Will you come quietly?"

"_Rhifv Areinnye daeohre_," spat Nero, and all could see the veins in his forehead pulse.

"Two more impacts and most of the electronics on the _Narada_ will be disabled – life support included. Surrender now, Nero, and spare the lives of your crew."

"And what of your precious Princess? That's why you're here, isn't it?"

"We will beam him out. Whether or not you cooperate."

"Oh, I most definitely won't cooperate, Spock. But you won't be able to beam your whore out. Not with the jamming signal we have." His grin was feral as he rose slowly to his feet. "Especially not if I kill him first."

Ayel, anticipating his commanding officer's actions, hauled the Princess to his feet with only one hand. He let go just in time for Jamesina to fall with the force of Nero's backhanded blow.

"Do you know he loves you, Spock?"

Even the Vulcan couldn't mask the heartbreak that crossed his face for a split second.

"Activate the jamming signal!" Nero shouted.

As the high energy pulse generator was lowered and activated, bass guitar blared within the _Narada_ and through to the _Enterprise_.

"Let the log show," sang Nero. "Let the log show. Let the log show.

"The way that you dance, the way that you move, the way that you came from across vacuum – you carry phaser rifles, and you got your Starfleet; you Vulcans are the reason my planet's all dead. Now I got your girlfriend, I got him in chains. I got bad ass tattoos on my neck and my face."

Spock was not to be outdone. "I got EMP torpedoes, but we won't fire yet. I got a phaser neatly, tucked inside in my waist."

"And the log keeps showing, the same old 'cast. The Vulcan's mean mugging on me all night long, he says –"

"Aha, aha, keep your hands of my girl, keep your hands off my girl –"

"He says _aha, aha_, but the log keeps showing, the same old 'cast. He says –"

"Aha, aha, keep your hands of my girl, keep your hands off my girl."

Nero grabbed Princess Whitelaw by the neck of his dress, the material threatening to rip, and held him up, bruised and bloody, so that Spock could clearly see him.

"Now he's threatening me, and my beautiful ship. He can't tell I'm serious; maybe it's the tattoos. But he can't just back up, so what does he do – he just stays posted up, in his small tiny ship. I got squiggly lines tattooed on my head. I don't know why some people call me Eric Bana.

"And the log keeps showing, the same old 'cast. The Vulcan's mean mugging on me all night long, he says –"

"Aha, aha, keep your hands of my girl, keep your hands off my girl –"

"He says _aha, aha_, but the log keeps showing, the same old 'cast. He says –"

"Aha, aha, keep your hands of my girl, keep your hands off my girl.

"He, he, he don't wanna talk about it, he, he, he wants to fight about, me, me, I don't wanna fight about it, I just want the Princess, I, am merely following protocol. Put him in a shuttle, or else I will beam on myself. The one that you have kidnapped, is not the one you think he is." Spock looked as agitated as only a Vulcan could when he noticed the Princess' eyes slide in and out of focus.

Nero scoffed and shook Jamesina roughly. "I know that you idiot, who says I can't keep him? The face on the viewscreen, looks like the Vulcan I stranded, but the log keeps showing – I got bad ass tattoos on my neck and my face. I got bad ass tattoos on my neck and my face.

"And the log keeps showing, the same old 'cast. The Vulcan's mean mugging on me all night long, he says –"

"Aha, aha, keep your hands of my girl, keep your hands off my girl –"

"And the log keeps showing, the same old 'cast. The Vulcan's mean mugging on me all night long, he says –"

"Aha, aha, keep your hands of my girl, keep your hands off my girl."

"You carry phaser rifles, and you got your Starfleet; you Vulcans are the reason my planet's all dead. Now I got your girlfriend, I got him in chains. I got bad ass tattoos on my neck and my face.

"I got bad ass tattoos on my neck and my face."

OoOoOoOoOo

"Mr. Sulu, when I give you the order, you are to fire on the _Narada_, regardless of whether the Princess or I are aboard. That is an order."

The helmsman made a face, wondering what it was with the _Enterprise_ captains and their self-sacrificing attitude. He duly acknowledged the command, though, and exchanged a worried look with Chekov.

"Zhe Keptin's plan will work, _da_?"

He was about to answer, when Lieutenant Dalton – Spock's replacement – spoke up: "Captain Spock has beamed off the _Enterprise_."

Sulu gripped Chekov's hand. "I hope so, Pasha."

OoOoOoOoOo

A photon torpedo had taken care of the drill, which had been emitting the jamming signal. Still, Spock did not want to run the risk of something going wrong by beaming the Princess from the _Narada_. There would be complications of Nero tried to interfere with the process – which he would most certainly would do. So Spock would beam aboard. Alone.

Unfortunately, he was not beamed onto the bridge of what Scotty referred to as the 'Squid Ship'. And even more unfortunately, he was surrounded by Romulans who proceeded to fire at him.

Most unfortunately of all, one of them managed to warn Nero.

So, even though Spock managed to clear the area and, _ahem_, procure directions to the bridge, Nero was already waiting.

Spock's eyes were not on him.

Princess Whitelaw was now gagged in addition to being bound, and the uniform he was wearing was now torn at the neck. He was just barely standing of his own power; Spock could see his knees shaking even from where he stood. There were more bruises on his face, most noticeably around his left eye, and blood seeping into the dirty gag. Presumably Nero had taken out his anger on the defenceless Princess when he saw his ship and his drill rendered impotent.

If Nero was angry now, his wide smile gave no indication. The slight twitch, however, made it clear that he was not in full possession of his mental faculties. But that was a fact they'd been aware of since Nero had first made contact two years ago.

"Spock, so nice of you to join us."

At the mention of the Vulcan's name, Jamesina looked up. He could see the worry in Spock's brown eyes. Something sparked in his own – they were in no way as lively as they had been before, but they had lost their dull blue sheen.

Inexplicably, as he stared into Spock's eyes, he blocked out whatever Nero was saying. In his head thundered the voice of Bones – his Bones, the one from home.

"_I don't know how you get into these fights, Jim. If your parents ever found out –"_

"_They only will if you tell them, Bones. I mean, those kids wouldn't dare complain to the King and Queen that their son beat the living shit out of them."_

"_Where do you learn that language?"_ _A pause. "Don't answer that. Besides, this time _you_ almost got the living shit kicked out of you."_

_Princess Whitelaw hissed as the healer applied a stinging salve. "They fought dirty."_

"_Kid, if you want to fight with the village ruffians, you gotta learn to fight dirty."_

_He perked up. "Will you teach me?"_

"_I'm a healer, dammit, not a trainer."_

"_Aw, c'mon Bones!" He batted his eyelashes. "Please, please, please?"_

"_...fine. But only after you heal properly! And no fights for a month!"_

Princess Whitelaw smiled nastily, though the action was rather lost on all present due to the presence of the gag. He had a plan. It was crazy and inelegant and semi-unlikely to succeed. But how would he get Spock in on it?

While Jamesina was undergoing this dilemma, Spock found that he could not tear his gaze away from the human, although he was conversing with Nero. He was glad that Nyota had knocked sense into him – though not literally, that would likely have been unpleasant. He would not have been able to 'live with himself' – to borrow a human saying – if he had continued on to the Laurentian System and not seen those blue eyes ever again.

"It's very simple, Spock. The Princess, for the codes."

"Nero, surrender yourself, your crew and your vessel. No terms, no deals."

He narrowed his eyes. "Do you expect me to believe you do not feel for this Earthling? Not after that touching display earlier."

"Your ship has been disabled –"

"We can get it back running. I will not have my vengeance denied, Spock. Either you take my deal, or I kill the Princess. Right here, right now."

For some reason, Nero had ordered the bridge cleared of all personnel except himself and Ayel – and the Princess, but that goes without saying. This was advantageous to Spock, seeing as it meant there were only two hostiles he had to take out. The only problem was that if he took out Ayel first, Nero would have plenty of time to kill Jamesina. He didn't have a clear shot of the Romulan captain.

Then he heard in his head, as clear as purified dihydrogen monoxide, Princess Whitelaw's voice.

_I'll take Nero. You get the other one._

There was no doubt that it was him, from the determined look in his eyes. Spock had not known humans to have particularly high psi-ratings, but perhaps the Princess was unique in that respect. Since the Vulcan did not know whether this odd _connection_ worked both ways, he said, "Yes."

This rather interrupted Nero, who'd been in mid-tirade. "What?" he demanded. _Yes_ was hardly a response to what he'd been saying. He hadn't even asked a question.

Because Nero was distracted, and because he honestly hadn't been expecting it, Princess Whitelaw was able to swing his head backwards. The back of his head connected with Nero's nose with a satisfying crunch.

At the same time, a single phaser beam thudded into Ayel's chest. In another reality, he would die in a mining accident. In yet another, his thirst for revenge on the Orion smugglers that took his brother would estrange him from his bondmate and their daughter, leading to an untimely death involving treachery and an airlock. In a third, he would live a long and full life alongside Maiek.

However, in this reality, he fell soundlessly onto the deck of the _Narada_. The cuff he wore would never feel the warmth of skin again.

Nero howled in pain, clutching at his broken nose. Jamesina paid him no heed, and instead ran towards Spock. The Vulcan did not bother with the Princess' bonds; he picked him up, bridal style, and ran towards the shuttle bay.

Nevertheless, they were not in the clear. There were still Romulans after them, armed Romulans. They – or, rather, Spock – ducked into an empty hallway and set Princess Whitelaw on his feet. He removed the gag, and sliced through the cuffs with his phaser.

"Can you walk? I cannot return fire with my hands unavailable."

Jamesina nodded. He might have attempted to say something, but they both heard shouts coming towards them. Spock grabbed the Princess' hand (they both felt _something_ at the contact) and hurriedly led him on.

The nearest shuttle had the Standard letters _NRW_ stamped neatly in black along its sides, with _Joanna _under it in smaller font. Odd, seeing as they were on a Romulan vessel. Neither Spock nor Jamesina were in any position to ponder this, however – not that the Princess would have thought it out of the ordinary, being a foreigner to this universe –, so I'll just call it digression.

Spock tried to access the terminal beside the shuttle, so as to open the doors. Alas, it seemed that the power to the shuttle bay had also been shut down in one of the two EMP blasts the _Narada_ had sustained. Princess Whitelaw crouched behind the terminal, as it offered some cover from the weapon fire of the Romulans. After awhile, Spock joined him, although the Vulcan periodically shot back at their enemies to keep them at bay.

Jamesina finally caught his breath, wondering how his companion had managed to do all he had and still look as unruffled as he had when they'd first met on the _Enterprise_. This was unimportant. They were both going to die here. Why had –

"Why did you come for me?" He hadn't meant to sound so accusatory, but the words were already out of his mouth.

Spock didn't answer at first. Then again, he'd just neatly ducked and fired his phaser, causing the offending Romulan to fall to the ground, dropping her type-3 disruptor pistol. When he turned to the Princess, his customary dispassionate expression was not present. Jamesina felt the air get stuck in his throat as his nerves jangled at the _connection_ sang.

The Vulcan stroked his face lightly, and he leaned into the touch, though not enough to break eye contact.

"I love you."

At this point it felt like the world had paused for Princess Whitelaw. All he could feel was Spock's warm fingers on his face, all he could see were those brown eyes, every sense taken up by the Vulcan whom he loved – and who loved him. It didn't matter that Jamesina was injured and aching. It didn't matter that there were disruptors being fired at them, the green bursts connecting with the console they hid behind and the shuttle behind them. It didn't matter that Nero was on the other side of the shuttle bay, urging his crew on, shouting at them to "Fire everything!"

It didn't matter.

So Princess Whitelaw kissed him.

It wasn't his first kiss. For someone who snuck out of the castle to engage in fisticuffs, sneaking out for secret assignations and moonlight rendezvous were hardly difficult. It was his first kiss with a Vulcan, yes, and his first kiss with Spock, but this in and of itself was nothing too special.

What was special was that it was _true love's first kiss_. And, that, as I'm sure you are all quite aware of, is _very_ special indeed.

It rather slipped the Princess' mind, though – we can excuse him, poor dear, seeing as he's been through a stressful day –, so he was surprised when their _connection_ flared and Spock started glowing. The closest thing that came to describing this radiance was the Boomerang Nebula, the coldest place known to the universe. The air around the Vulcan was a shimmering blue – in fact, as blue as the Princess' irises – and although not the same temperature of the planetary nebula I just compared it to (which was -272 Celsius), it was colder than the air in the ship, and stung Princess Whitelaw's already sensitive skin.

The Romulans were even more surprised at the sight than Jamesina. Some ran away, some shielded their faces, and all of them stopped shooting. Even Nero stood open-mouthed.

The figure that emerged from the now-fading brightness was not Spock. Not exactly.

Gone were the pointed ears, and the meticulously cut hair and the slanted eyebrows. He no longer looked as alien as he had before – in fact, he looked human. The constant was the eyes; they were exactly the same, the same beautiful brown. The overall effect added rather than took away from the man's presence. In spite of everything, though, the _connection_ remained there. So was he Spock, somehow?

"Who are you?" Princess Whitelaw breathed, stunned.

"I am Spock. Rather, Prince Zachycakes Spock Quinto. As a child I was cursed to remain in the body of the warrior Spock, until I found true love. Until I found you."

Jamesina blushed, and would have replied, had a disruptor blast not crackled into the shuttle hull. The both of them ducked automatically.

"I'll kill you both! If I cannot make you suffer like I have, Spock, then at least I will have your life and your whore's!"

The Prince grabbed both of Jamesina's hands – both gasped – and said, "Do you trust me, Princess?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation. It hadn't even occurred to the Princess to think otherwise.

Prince Zachycakes stood and faced their aggressors. Jamesina wanted to yank him back behind cover, but he remembered what had been asked of him. Instead he sent all the love and worry he had – which was substantial – through the _connection_, and raised his head far enough over the console so that he could see.

The Prince raised his hands to his face, touching his first and middle fingers of both hands to his temples. As soon as he did, multicoloured beams of light were emitted from his eyebrows. There was a loud roaring sound that seemed to fill the world, but the screams of the Romulans could still be heard, and Jamesina clapped his hands over his ears in an attempt to block them out.

Perhaps it was the blood loss. Perhaps it was the mental trauma he'd been dealt. Perhaps it was a combination of these things and more.

Whatever it was, it was enough to have Princess Whitelaw fall unconscious.

OoOoOoOoOo

Everyone on the bridge was on edge. Bones would have still been pacing, had it not been for Uhura's quelling look at him on his third round. Chekov was biting his lip raw, and Sulu was nervously tapping the arm of the Captain's chair. They all started when Spock's voice – or what seemed like Spock's voice, if it had been rich with emotion – came through.

"Spock to the _Enterprise_."

"Yes, sir?"

"Mr. Sulu. Fire all EMP torpedoes."

"But –" The Vulcan hadn't called for a beam out, and there were no readings of any shuttles leaving or having left the _Narada_, which meant that he and the Princess were still onboard.

"Fire all EMP torpedoes, Mr. Sulu!"

Hikaru set his jaw. "Yes, sir." He met the eyes of Chekov, and then the tactical officer's. "Do it."

OoOoOoOoOo

Unbetaed, but I'm sure I caught *most* of the spelling/grammar errors.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek. I don't own Princess Whitelaw, either the real one (rawr) or the fictional one of the children's book series (that belongs to natatas), but I do own this particular aspect of him. I don't own King Natatas and Queen Lamama, nor do I own Lady Gaga. I don't own the title of this story, but I did come up with the plot by myself. I don't own the songs mentioned in this story, though I do own the time used to butcher them. Are you getting a sense of what I do and do not own yet?

Act II. Don't be shy to review. **Seriously**.

Anila.


	3. Act III

**Act III**

That Spock had been cursed was common knowledge among Vulcans, as he was the scion of one of the most influential families on the planet. Still, it was not something that the house of Surak would appreciate being spread far and wide. And so, it remained one of Vulcan's best kept secrets – although, if you think about it, all secrets Vulcans choose to have are well-kept.

It explained why not a one of the Vulcans – or Vulcanians, if you prefer – even so much blinked an eye at the obviously human appearance of Spock. Not that they would have betrayed surprise in such an obvious fashion. Be serious.

No, they were more curious about the unconscious human Spock cradled in his arms. Dressed in Starfleet's official uniform for female officers (though ripped) and bearing a startling resemblance to Captain James Tiberius Kirk. These were, however, secondary observations. Common sense ensured that they attend to the medical needs of the human. It did not take long to summon a Vulcan doctor sufficiently knowledgeable in Xenobiology (especially seeing as the summons was from Spock, son of Sarek). Humans and Vulcans, though they outwardly looked similar, had enough anatomical and biological dissimilarities between them that normal Vulcan healing practices could prove fatal.

Still, xenobiologist or not, Terran or Vulcan, the extent of Princess Whitelaw's injuries meant that it would take some time before he even regained consciousness. Even so, Prince Zachycakes Spock Quinto did not leave, did not himself rest. He waited outside as the Princess was tended to, and was there when he was transferred to Spock's home. He himself carried the Princess into the building and placed him on a pre-prepared guest bed.

He had to be instructed by his mother to perform his ablutions and take rest. But when he awoke he took his refreshments – rather, they were forced on him – and he spent a good portion of the morning in the guests quarters, merely sitting by Jamesina's bed.

It took a flat order from Sarek to get him away.

"Father."

"Spock. It is pleasing to see that you are returned." The only indication of his joy was slight crinkle at the corners of his eyes.

Amanda had no such qualms about making her emotions known. She engulfed her only son in a hug; for all that he was taller than she was. She held him at arm's length, scrutinised him. When her fingers brushed his temple, he stopped her.

"So," she said softly. "That's still there." She was, of course, referring to that which had gotten her son cursed in the first place.

"Yes." It was barely an exhale. "It is."

"Then that boy that you have brought here, he is –"

"Your true love," Amanda finished. She turned to meet her husband's eyes. Years of marriage (and their bond, of course) enabled her to see what most would miss. She smiled as she turned her head again to meet Zach's eyes. "That's wonderful!"

"Indeed, son. We would very much like to meet this boy, once he awakens."

Zachycakes said softly, "That would be unwise."

"What do you mean?"

He gently disentangled himself from his mother, and walked a few steps away, distancing himself from his parents. He stared out of the floor-to-ceiling windows, out at the Vulcan desert he knew as home, but not really seeing the dry sand and the jagged rocks. "I do not plan to marry him."

Sarek took a step forward to place a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Clarify," he stated plainly, no hint of rebuke or surprise in his voice. Well, obviously.

"I am a danger to him."

"Spock – not this again, please, we've tried to tell you –"

"Merely stating that I am not a threat does not negate the fact that I am, Mother. This should not have happened. I should never have kissed him."

"Regret is irrational now, son, seeing as you can do nothing to change the past."

"That may be so, Father; however, I am more than willing to ensure that nothing will happen to Jim in the future."

"Nothing _will_ happen! Spock, do you honestly think you'd let yourself slip like that?"

Zachycakes placed his hands behind his back. His breathing remained as even as his tone as he replied, "There remains a possibility that I will. I will not risk it."

"And if he refuses to let you leave? He's human, Spock. Like me. We don't give up love so easily."

Sarek imperceptibly increased the pressure of his fore- and middle fingers where they lay on Amanda's shoulder. "Have you factored that into your assessment, Spock?"

"He has not, nor will he," came a new voice. "His assessment is based on emotion."

The three of them turned to face the newcomer, the head of the house of Surak. "T'Pau."

She surveyed her great-great-grandson, her hands clasped in front of her. Her posture was perfect, as was expected. Osteoporosis was not something that afflicted Vulcans, even in the past. "Explain yourself, Spock," she demanded.

Far from being cowed, he returned her gaze. "Though we do not dissuade common opinion that we are emotionless, we are far from being so. Emotion is necessary for decision making."

"This is true. Yet yours lacks logic." Not waiting for a reply, T'Pau went on. "We base decisions on _all_ emotions, not the ones most convenient. You are letting fear overcome good sense, Spock."

"My fears are justified."

"Perhaps so. But there is a reason why this boy is the one to break your curse. He is your _One_. Your _t'hy'la_. You would not hurt him if you tried."

The Prince let out a shuddering breath.

T'Pau was not finished. "I have spoken with your Jamesina Whitelaw."

"He is awake?" Though toneless, there was eagerness in the tilt of Zachycakes' head.

"He still requires rest. In the time we conversed – brief though it was – I have managed to glean an impression of him. I approve of your union."

"As do we, Spock," Sarek said.

Zachycakes turned away again, plainly torn. On one hand, his family was proclaiming their support of him marrying his love, his One, his _t'hy'la_. On the other, their doing so was like signing Princess Whitelaw's death warrant. T'Pau was right in that his fears outweighed his love – but was there not a saying, '_if you love a person, let them go_'?

He didn't think that quoting a Terran adage would impress Sarek. Or T'Pau, for that matter. Or his mother, seeing as she clearly wanted him to be happy _with_ Jamesina.

Music started, and Spock stiffened. He heard rather than saw his mother step forward.

"All the house of Surak, all the house of Surak – all the house of Surak, all the house of Surak – all the house of Surak, all the house of Surak, all the house of Surak –

"Now listen up son; up in space, you just got cured, back to being Zachycakes. Now you decide that you don't deserve him, 'cause he managed to get hurt. But he'll be fine, he'll survive, don't you even feel guilty. 'Cause he makes you happy, and you do him, marry and I'll be content.

"'Cause if you like it then you should put a ring on it, if you like it the you should put a ring on it; don't be mad, 'cause you know that he wants it – if you like it you should put a ring on it. Wo oh ohh, oh oh ooh oh, oh ooh, oh oh oh, wo oh ohh, oh oh ooh oh, oh ooh, oh oh oh.

"'Cause if you like it then you should put a ring on it, if you like it the you should put a ring on it; don't be mad, 'cause you know that he wants it – if you like it you should put a ring on it."

Then his father took over. Zach could count the number of times he'd heard Sarek sing on one hand and still have fingers left over. "I got a human as a wife, I'm ambassador to Earth, a place on the High Council. You my son, must make a choice, it's very important that you think. You need no permission, did I mention; you have our psychological support. 'Cause you are our son, child of two worlds, I am grateful for this.

"'Cause if you like it then you should put a ring on it, if you like it the you should put a ring on it; don't be mad, 'cause you know that he wants it – if you like it you should put a ring on it. Wo oh ohh, oh oh ooh oh, oh ooh, oh oh oh, wo oh ohh, oh oh ooh oh, oh ooh, oh oh oh.

"'Cause if you like it then you should put a ring on it, if you like it the you should put a ring on it; don't be mad, 'cause you know that he wants it – if you like it you should put a ring on it. Wo oh ohh, oh oh ooh oh, oh ooh, oh oh oh, wo oh ohh, oh oh ooh oh, oh ooh, oh oh oh."

Spock had to turn now. Because T'Pau had joined in. "Don't be ignorant of the things of the world, I approve of Princess Whitelaw. Your love is what he prefers, what he deserves, is a man that makes him, then takes him, and delivers him to a destiny, to infinity and beyond – pull him into your arms, say 'I'm the one you want'; if you don't, you'll be alone, and like a ghost he'll be gone.

"All the house of Surak, all the house of Surak – all the house of Surak, all the house of Surak – all the house of Surak, all the house of Surak, all the house of Surak – now listen up Spock! Wo oh ohh, oh oh ooh oh, oh ooh, oh oh oh, wo oh ohh, oh oh ooh oh, oh ooh, oh oh oh, wo oh ohh.

"'Cause if you like it then you should put a ring on it, if you like it the you should put a ring on it; don't be mad, 'cause you know that he wants it – if you like it you should put a ring on it. Wo oh ohh!"

And all together: "'Cause if you like it then you should put a ring on it, if you like it the you should put a ring on it; don't be mad, 'cause you know that he wants it – if you like it you should put a ring on it. Wo oh ohh."

OoOoOoOoOo

When Princess Whitelaw came to (for the second time, and properly), he was alone. There was no Vulcan who was ancient, not in looks, but in the way she carried herself and spoke. T'Pau had intimidated him, but not as much as she would have had he been fully awake. She'd asked him several questions – Jamesina was surprised he'd managed to answer them coherently, actually – and had seemed pleased with what he'd said. How did he know? Well, she'd given him a small smile.

Then, he hadn't thought it odd, and had instead beamed back, albeit a little sleepily.

Well, whatever drugs they'd given him must have worn off by now, because the world around him was no longer fuzzy. For the first time he could take in the room he was in without fear that he was being rude, or that he would blackout halfway through doing so. It was a nice enough room, he decided, no way as cluttered and colourful as his own. Everything from the walls to the furniture was in muted, neutral colours. A few accents in red could be seen here and there, and the walls were unadorned. Jim supposed they didn't have to be, as they were interesting enough on their own.

Finished with his inspection, he sat up, pleased to note that no part of his body hurt. These people were surely excellent healers, even magicians, if they could restore him to health so quickly. The only thing wrong with him was his parched throat.

Almost soon as he acknowledged his thirst, a woman appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray that had a pitcher and a cup made of polished wood. Her smile was gentle and made him feel at ease as she approached and set down her burden.

"Hello," Princess Whitelaw said, at a loss as to what to say.

"Hello, dear," she returned warmly, handing him the cup. "Here, have a drink."

He did so, because he really was thirsty. "You're not Vulcan."

She laughed. "No, I'm human, like you. I'm Spock's mother." She gently took the cup from him and replaced it on the tray, gracefully sitting in the chair located by the side of his bed. "What do I call you?"

"I'm...my name is Jamesina Whitelaw, but you can call me Jim, ma'am."

"And _you_ can call me Amanda. No need to make me feel older than I am." Though her tone was stern, her eyes twinkled. Oh, she was Spock's mother alright. No one came close to having irises that exact shade of brown.

That reminded him – "Where's Spock? Is he alright?"

"Yes, he is. He's been quite worried about you, actually."

The Princess looked down at his lap, trying and failing to not look as pleased as he felt.

"You love my son, don't you?"

He jerked his head up. She certainly didn't beat about the bush. "I, I do."

Amanda smiled. "Jim. My son...he's different. He's been alone most his life, and despite my best efforts, I'm only his mother. You have to promise me that his future will not be a repeat of his past. That you will make sure he's never lonely, that you will be by his side, that you will love him with all your heart."

Going on instinct, Princess Whitelaw reached forward and clasped one of Amanda's hands. "Even if you hadn't asked, I would've done so. But...I promise. I'll make him happy."

"I daresay you will." She squeezed Jamesina's hand, looking happy, then stood. "You should get dressed. I have the perfect thing."

Before the Princess could object, she went over to an intricately carved chest at the foot of the bed and withdrew a neatly folded bundle of cloth. She let it unfold as it would, revealing it to be a beautiful dress. It was asparagus green, and would doubtless bring out the blue in Jamesina's eyes. Along the shoulders was gold patterning, the only texture on the fabric. The upper half of the dress was in the style of a wraparound, except sewn shut, forming a V-neck.

"I couldn't possibly..."

"Oh, nonsense, dear." Amanda draped the dress over the chair she'd vacated. "You're practically family." She leaned over Jim and placed a kiss on his forehead. Smiling at his red face, she left the room to give him some privacy.

And he did need it. The blush had died down, and tears prickled at his eyes, causing him to slump back onto the pillows. Jamesina choked on a sob, and yet, as he brought his hands up to swipe at his wet cheeks, he found himself smiling. Because...even though it looked like he wouldn't see his parents again, the prospect of Spock's family being his own...well.

He couldn't quite get into that.

OoOoOoOoOo

Prince Zachycakes sat on a bench that overlooked the gardens. It was not usual for Vulcan homes to have gardens – the planet being primarily arid and dry – but his mother had insisted. (That she could out-stubborn Sarek probably played a large part in their own romance.) Amanda tended to the gardens in her free time, not that the plants needed much tending to. They were a mixture of Terran and Vulcan plants, the former specially picked to withstand Vulcan's desert climate.

Spock could appreciate the presence of the gardens. The prickly leaves and flowers with small petals surrounded him, and calmed his thoughts, soothed him. However, they could not stop his mind from continuously returning to the item in his pocket. It was illogical to think that it was at an elevated temperature when compared with the outside air, as gold was not known to give off heat, but it still felt like the ring was burning a hole in his pocket.

A hand on his shoulder broke him out of his musings. When he saw who it was, he felt the breath leave his lungs. It was enough that Princess Whitelaw was beautiful, and that his colouring was unique on Vulcan. But the dress he had on, its green stood out against the background, and the dying sunlight played across the gold design along the shoulders as they did in the Princess' eyes.

It was a sight to inspire awe – which it did – and did not diminish when he smiled sheepishly and said, "Hey."

The Prince immediately got to his feet and took Jim's hands in his own.

"Jim. You are well?"

"Yeah." He blushed. "I mean, yes, I'm well. And you?"

"I will rest better knowing that you are alright."

The blush deepened. "Uh, that's good."

As we know, these are two star-crossed lovers, so we may excuse them when they merely stood there, staring into each other's eyes. I would suggest reading a short story, or perhaps getting a snack, while you wait. This could take a while.

...

Oh, look, they're done.

Spock had regained some sense and said, "I have something of import to tell you, Princess."

Jamesina huffed. "I told you to call me Jim."

"Jim."

He would never tire of hearing his name from those lips.

"Perhaps it would be best for you to be seated when I deliver the news."

It was about this time, as Princess Whitelaw was led to a seat on the bench, that he started feeling a teensy bit worried. In his experience, people only told you to sit down prior to delivering news when that news was of the bad variety. (Or, if you were Bones, a way to make sure you couldn't easily run away from being given your disgusting-tasting medicine.)

Still, it was Spock. He had a different way of going about things.

"I confess; if anything had happened to you aboard Nero's ship that you would not be able to recover from, I would not forgive myself. As it is, the injuries you suffered are primarily my responsibility."

"Spock –" Jamesina wanted to assure him that he was in no way responsible for the Princess' recklessness, or Nero's insanity, that he didn't blame him in the slightest, but the Vulcan shook his head.

"I will admit that guilt over something I could not have controlled is illogical, but acknowledging this fact and accepting it are two different things. At any rate, for this reason, and because of the danger you face by merely being in my presence, I had decided it best that you never see me again."

Jim's heart splintered. Even if his chest hadn't felt like it was imploding, Spock's grip on his hand prevented him from interrupting.

"However, my great-great-grandmother has talked sense into me. You have met her. She accused me of making a decision without considering all sides of the argument, which is shameful for a Vulcan. But she was right. I had not taken your feelings into consideration. I had not considered that you would be unhappy should I not want to see you."

Now the Princess was...confused. It didn't stop him from saying, "Of _course_ I'd be unhappy if you didn't want to see me. Or me to see you."

Spock shot him his version of an annoyed look, and he obligingly subsided.

"Therefore, I have decided, for the mutual benefit of all parties, that... I..." The Prince looked away, trying to collect his thoughts, jaw clenched. "That I...we..."

Princess Whitelaw found it incredibly endearing that he was at a loss for words, even though he wasn't yet sure what Zach was trying to get across, and whether or not it'd be agreeable.

"I..." He made a frustrated noise and dug something out of his pocket. It glinted in the sunlight. "Marry me?"

Jamesina stared at him, dumbfounded, for so long that Zachycakes actually considered putting away the ring. Then: "Of course, you idiot!"

Needless to say, there were professes of love and kisses exchanged, not to mention the placing of the ring on the Princess' finger. They were content to remain outside, in silence, as the temperature dropped with the sun's setting.

Well, mostly silence.

"Is that...a pie?"

Spock hummed in agreement.

"No, seriously, you're sun is a pie?"

"There are many oddities in my world."

And that, as they say, was that.

OoOoOoOoOo

On Vulcan, it was customary for bonded couples to remain on the planet for at least one Vulcan year before conducting off-world travel. Seeing as Jim and Spock were newly affianced, then, they should do their travelling (i.e., their honeymoon) before the bonding ceremony.

After they'd told the Prince's parents about their engagement, Amanda had handed over two shuttle passes with smiling eyes.

"I like your mother."

"Indeed. You two seem to get on most expediently."

The shuttle had taken them to the neighbouring planet, Delta Vega. When they landed, a figure greeted them.

"Mr. Spock! Princess!"

The figure looked surprisingly like Chekov – bar the fact that the navigator of the _Enterprise_ had not had a tiara on his head and iridescent wings that emerged from his shoulder blades. They were something like the wings of angels as depicted in ancient Earth artwork, and were folded neatly against his back as he smiled at them. Beside him stood Sulu, who was resplendent in navy blue – not a colour he was seen in often, seeing as his uniform was gold. Their hands were entwined – which, Princess Whitelaw only just realised, was unsurprising.

"Mr. Chekov? Mr. Sulu?"

The two exchanged smiles. "Yes. It seems the breaking of your curse has had repercussions as to my real identity." When one of Chekov's wings cuffed him on the head gently, Sulu laughed. "Both our real identities."

"_Da_. I am zhe Sugarplum Fairy."

"And I am his Prince." Both blushed.

"Welcome to Delta Vega. The Land of Snow."

Arm in arm, the Prince and Princess stepped forward, both in wonderment of their surroundings (in their own ways). In the background Pavel and Hikaru could be heard bickering, apparently about the snow of Moscow, but this went ignored in favour of the pristine whiteness that stretched out as far as the eye could see. Had it been daytime, doubtless their eyes would have watered. But with the night sky above, soothingly dark and peppered with stars – and Vulcan, in the distance – the snowy view was especially enchanting.

They stood on a raised platform, overlooking an enormous, flat clearing. Enclosing the clearing were trees, if trees were somehow made of ice or glass or something similar. The leaves glittered like Chekov's wings in the starlight. Oddly enough, despite the fact that they were in a winter wonderland – it was the Land of Snow, for heaven's sake – the temperature was quite pleasant, even for Spock, who came from warmer climate.

"I am unaccustomed to snow," he said.

"You've never seen snow before?" Jamesina asked, surprised.

"I have seen holofilms and photographs. But to answer your question; no, I have not seen snow before."

He leaned to the side and rested his cheek against Zachycakes' shoulder. "Beautiful, huh?"

"Yes." He wasn't talking about the snow, but Prince Zach saw no reason to inform the Princess.

"Jim."

"Bones!" Jamesina exclaimed excitedly, separating from the Prince so he could throw his arms around the older man. "How'd you get here?"

"Whaddya mean how'd we get here, kid, our helmsman and navigator are standing right there." Despite his gruff tone, the good doctor was hugging back just as fiercely. "What the Hell were you thinkin', Jim? You coulda got killed."

"But I wasn't –"

"You _could_ have." They'd separated by now, but Leonard had Princess Whitelaw at arm's length. Doubtless if he'd had his tricorder with him, he'd have it in his hand. He gave a harrumph. "Well, at least these pointy-eared hobgoblins know how to heal humans."

A gentle hand on his elbow drew Zachycakes out of his observation of the two.

"Nyota."

She smiled up at him. "I'm glad you're safe, Spock."

"As am I."

"So," she said slyly, "do I get to be the maid of honour?"

The Prince quirked a quizzical eyebrow at her.

"It's a Terran custom. It's traditional for the groom to have a best man – usually his best friend – while the bride has a maid of honour."

"Are you then implying that I am the bride?"

Before Uhura could reply, a voice broke in. "What's this abou' brides and marriage, then?" Scotty asked, grinning. "Ah trust ah'm invited."

"Mr. Scott. Of course. We would have it no other way." Spock didn't miss the way the Chief Engineer's arm went around Nyota's waist, but he'd also noticed her eyes glow with happiness as he did so.

"Yeh gave us quite th' shock there, Mr. Spock. S'good thing tha' Vulcan ship was there, if not we'd never've noticed our proximity sensors were b'yond repair."

"My friends!"

Everyone turned to face Sulu, who stood beside Chekov – the Sugarplum Fairy – in front of a band of musicians. They were familiar faces, possibly crewmembers of the _Enterprise_.

"My friends. To properly welcome you to Delta Vega Pasha and I have something special planned. So, if you would make yourself comfortable."

Chekov clapped his hands and rugs and cushions appeared on the dais out of thin air. Prince Zachycakes chose a comfortable looking blue one, and gracefully sat cross-legged upon it. Of course, its softness had little to do with his choice, as the cushion was next to where Princess Whitelaw sat, the skirt of his green dress carefully arranged around him. It proved to be a most advantageous selection when Jamesina reached over and took his hand.

Even more light seemed to shine from the heavens, as if it was being scattered by thousands of tiny little mirrors, and were particularly focused on the two standing before them. Chekov blushed deeply when Prince Sulu bowed to him, rakish grin on his lips.

"You can do that, yes you can, having the time of your life – ooh, see that boy, watch that math, dig in the Sugarplum Fairy!"

The Russian's voice was light and sweet, his wings fully unfurled to their six-foot glory. "It is night and the stars are out, welcome to the Land of Snow. Where detecting singularities, we can do ev'ryday – I'd rather it not be in a planet, though."

"I'm lucky I'm your guy, night is young and the moon is high. With a bit of impulse power, everything is fine. You're in the mood for romance. Then I don't have a chance..."

"I am the 'Plum Fairy, young and sweet, only seventeen! Russian whiz, I can do more than astrophysics, yeah. Give me the, manual control, and I will save your life. Ooh, see that guy, watch him fence, you will see what I see."

Scotty whooped when Sulu reached out and kissed Chekov slowly. Bones nudged Uhura, who grumbled and handed over what looked like credits. The song wasn't at its end, though.

"You're a teaser, you turn me on. Leave me burning whenever you fence. It's my fault I suppose, asking to teach you – you're in the mood for romance. Then I don't have a chance –"

"I am the 'Plum Fairy, young and sweet, only seventeen! Russian whiz, I can do more than astrophysics, yeah. Give me the, manual control, and I will save your life. Ooh, see that guy, watch him fence, you will see what I see. You will see what I see..."

OoOoOoOoOo

"So wha' brought th' two o' you t'gether?" asked Scotty curiously. He sat next to Nyota, nursing what looked like a Scotch on the rocks.

They had all eaten, and were now resting on the cushions, while soft music played in the backdrop. The dinner had been of vegetarian fare – in deference to Spock's Vulcan upbringing – which Dr. McCoy seemed to take offense to. Superficially, anyway. He didn't outright refuse the food, which just went to show that he only complained out of habit.

"Vell, Hikaru was being the first to see me for more zhan being Russian and smart."

"I wouldn't say _smart_, genius-boy," Sulu broke in, smiling, but Chekov waved him quiet.

"Besides, what is not to lowe?"

Bones gave a short bark of laughter. "You left out 'young', kid. Please tell me the dating is a recent thing, and not when you _joined_ Starfleet."

Sulu glared. "Excuse me. He's seventeen and more than capable of making his own choices."

"The age of consent on Earth is eighteen, is it not?" Spock interjected, the corner of his mouth lifted up in his version of a smile.

"Sulu, you pedobear!"

They all laughed, and Pavel wrapped his wing around Sulu's shoulders as the Japanese man blushed. "Zhere, zhere, Hikaru. Zhey are only joking."

Uhura rested her head on Scotty's shoulder and his arm came up around her. "So what do you love most about Chekov, Sulu? Something must have drawn you to him."

He thoughtfully stroked the feathers that rested against his side, causing Chekov to sigh contentedly. "Honestly? I made friends with him because he was always alone and I thought we'd get along. Plus we could tutor each other. And then, it was just, one night in the library. He made the first move."

It was Chekov's turn to flush. "Hikaru is a tease," was his only explanation.

"But to answer your question, Nyota...I think I'm just a sucker for Chekov. Everything that he is." The helmsman got to his feet and approached the musicians. He relieved one of them of her instrument, and started playing.

"Love me Russian whiz kid; I'm a Jap from over the sea. That tiara means, you're the fairy of m'heart, curly-haired and smart."

The other instruments joined in, Sulu's being most prominent.

"Kill me romantically, fill my soul with affection, then ask me for manual control. In no way dumb, you're my sugarplum. You're precious, I love you!

"He moves through moonbeams slowly, he knows just how to hold me, and during his fencing lessons, his body is my coffin. I know he speaks kinda funny, but he wears me down to bones in bed... Must be the sign on my head, that says, oh... Love me dead! Love me dead!"

"You're an astrophysics prodigy; you're an ensign officially – seventeen years old, shirt oh-so gold, never leave me alone. You count so passionately, you never need a calculator, since then, you got my heart. Too young to get drunk, but the fun never stops. You're so smart, it's sexy."

"He moves through moonbeams slowly, he knows just how to hold me, and during his fencing lessons, his body is my coffin. I know he speaks kinda funny, but he wears me down to bones in bed... Must be the sign on my head, that says, oh... Love me dead! Love me dead! Wow!"

At that moment Sulu started a complicated solo on what you and I know as an electric guitar, but was a mystery to Princess Whitelaw. Chekov had his chin propped up on his knees, and had a small, private smile on his face. It seemed that Sulu had many talents, not just fencing and botany, as his fingers flew across the frets with assurance.

"Love me like I do you – brrrot-dot-da-d-da-da! Brrrot-dot-da-d-da-da! How's your new toy? Do you know it's from me? We've to try it out next. You're born a genius! You're beautiful!"

"He moves through moonbeams slowly, he knows just how to hold me, and during his fencing lessons, his body is my coffin. I know he speaks kinda funny, but he wears me down to bones in bed... Must be the sign on my head, that says, oh... Love me dead! Love me dead! Love me dead! Love me dead!"

Sulu got on his knees and shot Chekov the dirtiest smirk he knew, which had the navigator red all over. (As if the mention of the 'toy' in front of all their friends hadn't already.)

"Ohhh, love. Me. Dead."

OoOoOoOoOo

They'd stopped talking some time ago, their words dying away into a companionable silence. Jamesina looked around the circle, at all the faces that were familiar to him for one reason, and dear to him for another. He would not want to forget these people.

"Spock?"

"Yes, Jim?"

"The _Enterprise_ is being repaired right now, right?"

He inclined his head. "Affirmative. It sustained quite some damage during our encounter with Nero."

The Princess couldn't help but shiver at the mention of the madman. At least he would trouble them no longer. Zachycakes, who'd seen the shudder, moved closer to his fiancé to offer some comfort.

"So once it's fixed, you'll go back to be Captain, right?"

"That is a logical assumption, yes."

Princess Whitelaw very carefully didn't look at Spock as he fingered the trim of his dress and asked, "And I'll be with you?"

The Vulcan was saved having to answer when someone cleared their throat. They looked up. Prince Sulu bowed to the both of them, and smiled. "Will the two of you honour us with your presence on the dance floor?"

"Dance floor?" Prince Zachycakes asked, standing with a raised eyebrow and a hand offered to the Princess to help him to his feet.

His smiled widened, and he gestured with his right hand at the clearing they were overlooking. "It is custom on Delta Vega for guests to dance a turn. Naturally, we would not force you."

Princess Whitelaw turned to the Vulcan, willing to let him make the decision. Zach was a private person, he knew, but he also would not risk insulting their hosts. However, when Jamesina noticed his hesitation, not because of the aforementioned reasons, but because he still doubted himself, doubted that the Princess was making the wrong choice my accepting him; then he stepped in.

"One dance."

Spock looked at him in concealed surprise.

"Of course," agreed Prince Sulu.

Those brown eyes softened. "Very well."

As they climbed off the dais, chatter ceased, and the music lulled. Those present watched with interest as the Princess leaned down to give instructions to the head musician, who smiled and nodded easily.

The two of them walked slowly to the centre of the dance floor.

"This is ice," observed the Prince, both intrigued and disapproving. Understandable, as snow and all pertaining to it was mostly a mystery to him.

Princess Whitelaw, on the other hand, had experienced colder winters than this in Tumblrland. He loved the snow, and he'd loved annoying Bones by making snow-McCoys. It was true that the ground underfoot was not actually ground, but ice. However, it was not slippery. "I think there's some magic at play here. And I really doubt that the Sugarplum Fairy would put us in any danger."

They reached the midpoint, and Zachycakes gave the Princess an indulgent look. "What do you suggest we dance?"

"Let's improvise," Jamesina said, smiling mischievously as the guitar started.

"Kiss me, out on the fresh fallen snow. We're not, on the _Enterprise._ Swing, swing, swing the spinning step; you wear that hat and I will wear that dress.

"Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight; lead me out on the moonlight floor. Lift your open hand, strike up the band and make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling...so kiss me."

Other couples were joining them, but they had eyes only for each other. Spock was especially enraptured by the Princess' voice and the brilliance of his eyes.

"Kiss me in the Land of Snow – you love me, you said as Spock. Bring, bring, bring your paisley vest, we'll take the trail marked by the 'Plum Fairy –"

"Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight; lead me out on the moonlight floor. Lift your open hand, strike up the band and make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling...so kiss me."

They were dancing in a tighter circle now, so close that their chests and their shoulders and their noses would brush against each other's. Other couples floated past them; the Sugarplum Fairy and Prince Sulu, Nyota and Scotty – even Sarek and Amanda, though why and how they were there was a mystery. Still, all this was somewhat lost on the two lovers.

"Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight; lead me out on the moonlight floor. Lift your open hand, strike up the band and make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling...so kiss me. So kiss me."

The rest had stopped dancing. They merely gazed at Prince Zachycakes and Princess Whitelaw, feeling privileged to witness such a sight.

"So kiss me."

Zach stopped moving and gently took the Princess' face between his hands. As he leaned towards the Princess, Jamesina smiled, closed his eyes, and whispered, "So kiss me."

OoOoOoOoOo

Clapping surrounded them when they pulled away from each other. The Princess was pleased to note that despite Zachycakes' more human appearance, his skin still flushed green. He grinned up at him, and was rewarded with tenderness in those amazing brown eyes.

Suddenly, they heard gasps of surprise and horror from around them. Seeing that the focus of their audience was not them, they too turned their faces towards the skies...and gaped.

Slowly, so slowly it was almost imperceptible, their surroundings were melting away. It started with the sky; what was once glorious midnight black peppered with majestic constellations was now gradually fading to white. Princess Whitelaw stared up at it, arms still around Prince Zachycakes, who was equally fascinated.

"What's happening?" Jamesina asked, unable to prevent a note of fear from creeping into his voice.

"I do not know." His arms tightened around the Princess' waist protectively.

"Your time here is ending," said Chekov. The Sugar Plum Fairy's shimmering wings dropped sadly as he met Princess Whitelaw's stricken expression and Prince Zachycakes' raised eyebrow with a pout (it seemed an almost unconscious action. The pouting, I mean).

"You must return to your home, Princess Whitelaw," said Prince Sulu, coming up next to Chekov and placing a strong, comforting palm at the small of his back.

"Now?" he squeaked, very much disliking this new turn of events.

"Soon. This is not your world, Princess."

He turned to Prince Zachycakes then, who was still looking at the Sugar Plum Fairy and his prince.

"But…will you be coming with me?"

The expression in those beautiful brown eyes said it all, even if Prince Zachycakes didn't.

Princess Whitelaw closed his eyes, heartbreak plain on his face.

"There is time, yet, for goodbyes," said Chekov softly. "These things are not yet set in stone," he added cryptically. Then he and Prince Sulu disappeared, utilizing the magic they were in possession of, being the rulers of the Land of Snow.

The Prince cupped Princess Whitelaw's cheek. "Speak your mind, dearest."

He opened his eyes, and Prince Zachycakes felt physical pain at seeing the tears brimming in them. "I don't want to leave you."

He smoothed his thumb over a cheekbone. "You will not. You remain here." He took one of the Princess' hands and placed it over his heart. "As I am in yours…or so I hope."

"Always," Jamesina said earnestly. "I will love you always and forever."

Prince Zachycakes kissed hi gently on the forehead. "Then that is enough." He looked up, then, at the vanishing sky, in which the moon was still untouched, then looked back at the Princess in his arms.

Said Princess was absolutely enraptured, not by the moonlight playing across Zach's features, but the quirk of his lips and the expression in his eyes.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, voice huskier than usual.

"Yes," the Princess managed to say before the Prince suddenly twirled him. Obviously he had not meant to waltz or pavane.

Prince Zachycakes sang.

"Well, it's a marvellous night for a moondance, with the beautiful blue in your eyes. A fantabulous night to make romance, in the Sugar Plum Fairy's eyes. And all the leaves on the trees are falling; it's only a matter of time 'til they go. And I'm trying to please to the calling, of your heart-strings that play soft and low. And all the night's magic seems to whisper and hush. And all the soft moonlight seems to shine in your blush.

"Can I just have one a' more moondance with you, my love – can I just make some more romance with a-you, my love.

"Well, I wanna dance with you tonight; I would rather the morning not come. And I know the time is just right, and in the circle of my arms you belong. And when you come my heart will be waiting, to make sure you're never alone. There and then all my dreams will come true, dear; there and then I will make you my own. And every time I touch you, I feel what you feel – and I know how much you want me that you can't hide.

"Can I just have one a' more moondance with you, my love – can I just make some more romance with a-you, my love."

They were alone in the snowy clearing, but had they been anywhere else, had they been surrounded by millions of people – they would only have had eyes for each other. They danced _together_, in every sense of the word, as if they'd done so for years and years and years. Jim knew every move Zach would make, and Zach knew every move Jim would make. Poetry in motion.

The Prince twirled the Princess so Jamesina's back was pressed to his chest. The music dropped in volume, as did Zachycakes' voice.

"Well, I wanna dance with you tonight; I would rather the morning not come. And I know the time is just right, and in the circle of my arms you belong. And when you come my heart will be waiting, to make sure you're never alone. There and then all my dreams will come true, dear; there and then I will make you my own."

The saxophones swelled again, and the Princess was whirled back to face his Prince.

"And every time I touch you, I feel what you feel – and I know how much you want me that you can't hide.

"Can I just have one a' more moondance with you, my love – can I just make some more romance with a-you, my love. Can I just have one a' more moondance with you, my love – can I just make some more romance with you…my love. My love. My love – I just want one more moondance with you…"

Princess Whitelaw laughed as the Prince dipped him, the sound managing to be merry and sad all at once. The Vulcan felt his heart constrict, but he could do nothing more, could offer no more comfort than a lingering kiss.

By this time the sky was completely gone, and the canopy of the trees was slowly disintegrating into that same painful whiteness.

When they pulled back, the Princess was gazing into his eyes, his own an enchanting blue.

Prince Zachycakes wasn't too sure when they started revolving on the spot, gazes intent on the other's face. He didn't notice much else beyond the Princess' eyes and the soft tenor of his voice.

"In your brown eyes, I see love. In your brown eyes, what you couldn't say. In your brown eyes, you watch me so – and turn me 'round and 'round, and wonder what went wrong; why I have to go…

"If everything was everything, but everything is over. Everything could be everything; if only we had longer. Guess it's just a silly song about you… And how I lost myself, in your brown eyes.

"In your brown eyes, I was feeling wanted. But they're your brown eyes and you never know. Got some brown eyes, but a soft face –" he touched the Prince's face here "– I knew I wasn't wrong. So baby, turn me 'round and 'round, dance with me –

"Where everything was everything, but everything is over. Everything could be everything; if only we had longer. Guess it's just a silly song about you… And how I lost myself, in your brown eyes."

Prince Zachycakes' arms were around his waist, while his hands rested on the Prince's shoulders. As they slowly turned, Princess Whitelaw's voice faltered, and his gaze dropped, and his grip slackened. Spock opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, when that grip abruptly tightened, and blazing blue eyes met his.

"Everything was everything, but baby it's the last dance. Everything could be everything, but it's time to say goodbye, so; get your last hug, and your last kiss, I'll never forget you, I love you.

"Honey, yeah, it's no surprise that I got lost in your brown eyes."

At this point they weren't even dancing anymore, weren't even moving; they were merely holding onto each other as the world faded around them. Princess Whitelaw wondered if he would ever feel as safe as he did now, encased in Prince Zachycakes' arms. His voice was barely a murmur now, eyes shut against the growing brightness.

"In your brown eyes. Brown, brown eyes, your brown eyes. Brown, brown eyes, got some brown eyes. Brown, brown eyes…"

Jamesina's voice had dropped lower than a whisper, and he was painfully aware that he was alone, that he was clutching at himself, that there was no one holding him, and the white light was trying its damndest to seep into his eyelids, just like the way the tears wanted to get out.

"_Brown eyes_…"

It was a blessing when his thoughts were silenced by sleep.

OoOoOoOoOo

Unbetaed, but I'm sure I caught *most* of the spelling/grammar errors.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek. I don't own Princess Whitelaw, either the real one (rawr) or the fictional one of the children's book series (that belongs to natatas), but I do own this particular aspect of him. I don't own King Natatas and Queen Lamama, nor do I own Lady Gaga. I don't own the title of this story, but I did come up with the plot by myself. I don't own the songs mentioned in this story, though I do own the time used to butcher them. Are you getting a sense of what I do and do not own yet?

Act III. So, one more act left. REVIEW PEOPLE.

Anila.


	4. Act IV

**Act IV**

"I'm telling you, Bones. It was too real to be a dream."

"And I'm telling you, Jim, you had too much to drink. Damn lightweight."

Princess Whitelaw glared at his best friend. "I wasn't _that_ drunk," he protested. "And don't distract me."

"Don't distract me!" Bones was refilling jars of salve with an intent frown creasing his forehead, but Jamesina knew better than to take him seriously. There was a smile in that twitchy mouth corner.

"Come to think of it, Bones, when I was talking to the other McCoy, he was doing something similar."

"That's nice, Jim," he replied distractedly. It wasn't that Leonard was ignoring his young friend; he'd listened quite attentively when Jim had first come to him with the fantastical story. Be that as it may, it would require an impressive stretch of the imagination to think that the healer believed the Princess. It was probably a dream, the product of alcohol and something that probably hadn't sat well in Princess Whitelaw's stomach.

He still had two more jars to fill when Jim – by the gods, that boy could annoy like no other when he put his mind to it – spoke up again. "The other Bones was nicer to me, too. He actually _hugged_ me."

"Jim!" Concentration broken, Leonard set down the pestle and pushed aside the mortar so he could place his palms flat on the table. The Princess was trying to look innocent, but he wasn't fooled. But his jaw tightened; this was not a laughing matter at all.

"Jim, it wasn't real." Princess Whitelaw opened his mouth to interrupt, but McCoy scowled. "No, dammit, hear me out. There's a reason why all those people you dreamed of were familiar – you were basing them on the _real_ ones you do know. There's no such thing as travelling in space, aliens – there's no such thing as this Spock, except for the toy your godmother gave you!" His voice softened. "As for the hugging...Jim, you know I can't. You're a princess. Even though most of the kingdom knows we're like brothers, it just isn't bloody proper."

Jamesina's eyes were carefully downturned. "But...I love him, Bones. That has to be real."

The head Healer shook his head. "It isn't, Jim."

The Princess lifted his gaze and glared at him, blue eyes blazing with anger – and filled with tears. "You're lying! It was _real_!" With that announcement, he ran out of the Healing Wing, nearly colliding with a few other healers on the way.

Bones started towards the entrance, but sighed and returned to his work. There was no use going after Jim when he was in that mood. He was young, and would learn sooner or later, to separate dreams from reality. Hopefully. Leonard took his frustrations out on the herbs in the mortar, and tried to put it out of his mind.

Jim would get over it.

OoOoOoOoOo

Unfortunately, Jim did not get over it.

He started going down to the village just past the castle more often, picking fights. He even went to villages further up when no one would respond to his taunts, managing to return home before he was missed. Sometimes not even then.

The Princess would sometimes require medical attention after his wanderings. He would limp into the Healing Wing, sporting a black eye, or other bruises, often bleeding. There was the one time he had broken ribs, and another a broken collarbone. His nose had had to be reset twice, and at one point both his arms were in splints. His knuckles were always bloody, as were his tunic and leggings (because you couldn't get people to fight you if you were in a dress).

Every time McCoy tried to bring up what he thought of as an elaborate dream – as it was obviously the cause of all this – Jamesina loudly and pointedly changed the subject.

Even King Natatas and Queen Lamamama could not get through to him. All their efforts were unsuccessful; from talks to bribes to threats. They brought in foreign healers and thaumathurgists when the local ones could do nothing for their son. The simple fact was that none of them believed Princess Whitelaw when he talked about his dream; indeed, once this was established, Jim would stubbornly refuse to continue.

It took three and a half months for them to think to summon the Princess' fairy godmother. It took a further five weeks for Lady Gaga to appear at the castle.

She arrived just in time to intercept Jim as he re-entered the castle. He didn't even have the decency to look guilty, standing there in his torn clothes and sporting a split lip – luckily for him, that was the most serious of his injuries. She gave him a sad little smile and draped an arm around his shoulders so she could steer him into his rooms.

Lady Gaga sat her godson down. "Tell me."

He did. From beginning to end, and she made no comment throughout his narration. By the time he was finished, he was stretched out on his bed, with his head in her lap. The near constant ache that resided in his chest had started up again, in full force.

There was silence.

"Do you...d'you believe me?"

The fairy answered his question with one of her own. "Do you believe that it was real?"

"I do." There was no vehemence, no indignation; he spoke with a sort of tired finality.

She stroked his hair. "Then I believe you."

"Really?"

"Yes."

The ache was still there, but his head cleared a little at that admission. The Princess let his eyelids slide closed, and felt a single tear escape and make its way across his face and onto his godmother's lap. At least there was one person who didn't think him completely off his rocker. Not that anyone had made that admission to his face, but Jamesina could tell.

"But, darling, don't you have any proof?"

Now she sounded like the 'experts' his parents had made him see. Instead of answering, he buried his face in the satin of her dress.

"None at all? No one gave you anything?"

"Nnnn –" The muffled beginnings of what presumably was a 'no' was cut off as Princess Whitelaw realised something. He sat up, eyes wide. There _was_ something. He ran to his dresser.

Yes. It was there. The green dress Amanda had given him, exactly as he'd remembered it, right down to the shimmering gold motif near the neck. How come he hadn't thought to show it to anyone?

"And you're sure that's not a gift from your mother, or commissioned from the castle's tailors?" At the Princess' glare, Lady Gaga shrugged eloquently. "Just playing devil's advocate, dear."

"It's too short. And Mother doesn't know green's my favourite colour."

She raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I thought your favourite colour was gold."

"...I changed my mind."

"Which reminds me." Lady Gaga rose to her feet and approached her godson, placing her hands on his shoulders and looking at him seriously. "You love Spock."

It wasn't a question, but he nodded all the same. His heart was thudding painfully in his chest.

"Then do you think he would be proud of what you've been up to?" Jim averted his eyes, but his godmother continued on ruthlessly. "Do you think he would be happy to hear how much worry you've put us all through? Your McCoy has told me how many times he's had to patch you up – do you think he enjoys it? Do you think your parents aren't worried sick about you?"

"I –"

"No." She looked stern, as stern as he'd ever seen her. It was not often that she would take that tone with him; he had previously been a well-behaved Princess, after all. "We love you, Jamesina. We _love_ you. Even if it feels like we're against you because we don't understand fully, that's unchanged. It may not be the same love Spock feels for you and you for him, but it's there.

"Now, will I hear about these fights anymore?"

"...no, Godmother."

"Good boy." She kissed him on the forehead, then whispered. "I'll see you at Yule."

Bubbles were left after she departed, but Princess Whitelaw scarcely paid attention to the lilac scented spheres floating near the ceiling. Instead he replaced his dress, picked up Spock – the figurine – and sat on his bed.

_I'll see you at Yule_.

Was that a hint?

OoOoOoOoOo

This year, Yule was more extravagant that the last, due to an unexpected – and welcome – surplus of crops, as well as the permanent end of the kingdom's troll problem due to the bravery and ingenuity of General Hikaru. Fireworks had been imported from YouTuberia, while the finest musicians of Pandora had agreed to entertain all.

As promised, Princess Whitelaw involved himself in no more fights. Instead, his rebellion took the form of tasking the castle's seamstresses to remake his entire wardrobe. It cause not a few titters among the court, but really, it wasn't as if Jim was running around in clothes similar to the gold Starfleet uniform Uhura had given him. The hemlines were all below the knee, thankyouverymuch, and they were perfectly modest. He was wearing the green dress Spock's mother had given him now.

King Natatas and Queen Lamamama were just relieved that their son was not turning up at the dinner table with barely fading bruises, as was Healer McCoy. Passive rebellion was better than watching the Princess limp everywhere and act distant.

As he had done last Yule, Jamesina waited for his godmother, who was again late. His tenuous control had been severely tested by Duke Khan earlier; he had sent him scurrying away with his tail between his legs with several pointedly scathing – and yet polite – remarks. Jim let a curl of amusement settle in his stomach as he surveyed the hall. He watched Dame Nyota accept a dance from her new husband, Head Tinker Montgomery, joining the waltz that had been led by his parents. He had to look away when General Hikaru managed to cajole Pavel onto the floor. The memories threatened to swamp him.

Unknowingly, his feet brought him to one of the many balconies that peppered that floor of the castle. To his surprise, sitting on the railing was his figurine of Spock. Bubbles caught the moonlight and rainbows shimmered on their surfaces.

Princess Whitelaw took Spock and held him to his chest, to his heart, and stared up at the sky. There was one particularly bright star that seemed to want to compete with the brightness of the moon.

"Please, please, please, please, _please_," whispered the Princess, just as the clock tower struck midnight.

Of course, even after the chimes died away, nothing had happened.

"Jim?"

He whirled around to face Bones. Even without uttering a word, he could tell what the healer wanted to say by the expression on his face. But he couldn't accept it. Not now. The wound was still too raw. Despite the fact that he wanted to throw his arms around the healer to draw comfort, any comfort, Jamesina didn't bother to wait for Leonard to open his mouth; he ran back into the castle, and didn't stop until he'd reached his own quarters. He didn't care who stared at him as he passed, he downright ignored anyone who called after him.

He collapsed onto the window seat; Spock still cradled in his arms, and glared at the moon and the brightest star with tears in the corners of his blue eyes.

"I was waiting all my life to know you, all about you. And now I'm staring in your eyes so deep brown; I'm all about you. And in our minds it comes so easily, but there's a feeling coming over me; I wanna show you but there's no way we can really be free. Are you even real? Wouldn't it be good if we could be together?

"Take me away – take me far away from here. I will run with you. Don't be afraid, navigate and I will steer into the sun, we will run."

He stood and went to his mantelpiece, abandoning Spock on the cushions. He glared at the _Enterprise_, and the paper stars he had – rather childishly – pasted on his wall.

"I try to remember when I was just a child, in my room. And my imagination used to run wild, but I never knew – that nothing's ever as it seems to be, when a dream collides with the reality. It should be easy when two people love each other truly. Are you even real? Wouldn't it be good if they would understand me?

"Take me away – take me far away from here. I will run with you. Don't be afraid, navigate and I will steer into the sun, we will run. We will run. Whoa,oh, ohhh – we, will run – oh, yeah, yeah, yeah –

"Wouldn't it be good if I could somehow find you, wouldn't it be good if we could be together – take me _away_!" His voice was raised, but he was past caring who heard him. Illogically, he subconsciously wanted Spock – wherever he was, whether it was among the stars or on Vulcan or in the future, as fantastical as that sounded – to somehow be able to hear him, and –

"Take me away – take me far away from here. I will run with you. Don't be afraid, navigate and I will steer into the sun, we will run.

"I will run, I will run with you wherever you go. Don't be afraid, let's run away and I will steer into the sun.

"We will run."

OoOoOoOoOo

"Princess, are you alright?"

Princess Whitelaw had the strangest sense of déjà vu. The floor was cold, someone had their hand on his shoulder, and Spock was calling his name. How cruel his subconscious was, to make him dream of Prince Zachycakes when it was so obvious that he was not there. Nevertheless, Jamesina opened his eyes. A dream was better than nothing.

"Princess."

He was in the floor of his rooms, not the _Enterprise_, so there was something wrong with the hallucination. Ah well.

"Jim." This time there was a slightly concerned lilt to Spock's voice. Very slightly.

"Hi." He was allowed to be inane in his own dream, okay? Especially when the dream was more detailed than usual. But then again, considering that the last time he'd dreamed of Spock, that would suggest a trend of super-detailed dreams involving Zachycakes. And yet, the first time had not been a dream, had it? Digression. The Princess was rewarded for his ridiculousness by the not-smile the Prince was good at.

"I am happy to see you again."

That admission must have cost the Vulcan. Princess Whitelaw pushed off the floor so he was sitting up, and primly adjusted his green dress so as to ward off the chill of the stone. He noted that his heart had stopped its usual throbbing, and was instead pleasantly warmed by the presence of his love. In fact, he could actually feel the warmth rolling off Zach, temperature-wise, which was silly because this wasn't real.

"I'm glad to see you too, Spock. Even if you're not here."

He raised an eyebrow. "I beg to differ. You would not be conversing with me otherwise."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm very good at fooling myself, you know. Well, of course you know."

Spock's face had confusion written all over it. Well, not _all over_ it, but it was there if you knew where to look. And Jim knew where to look. He continued on blithely all the same.

"I mean, honestly, I thought the last time I dreamed in detail, but I've really outdone myself. Everything about you is as I remember. Admittedly, the clothes are different – though _lovely_, definitely, black suits you – I suppose since it's my dream I get to see you in whatever I please." He ignored the more primal part of him that perked up at that, because those weren't thoughts that a Princess was supposed to entertain. "Though it's a little weird, I didn't even drink anything last night. I'm not really on speaking terms with Bones, so I doubt he would've shared with me anyway. And –"

The Prince cut off his rambling. "You presume you are dreaming."

"Well, yeah. You don't expect me to believe that you're actually here after a year. A _year_, Spock."

"In point of fact, it has been a year and a day. Furthermore, I am as real as you are conscious."

He scoffed. "Of course I'd want me to think that."

"Pinch yourself."

Jamesina laughed. This was turning out exactly like the last time. Except he knew that pinching himself would bring no epiphanies – he wasn't awake, and that was that. Next thing you knew, Nero would swoop in through the window and take him hostage on a flying carpet.

"Princess, I assure you, I am not jesting."

"_Jim_." Silly dream-Spock.

"Jim." Spock leaned forwards, letting more emotion than usual bleed through. Princess Whitelaw was mesmerised by the intensity of those brown eyes, but not so mesmerised as to miss his next words. "You must believe me. I – I _need_ you to believe me. This is not a dream, and the only way I can prove it is for you to pinch yourself. _Please_." His voice broke slightly on the last word, and Jamesina's heart lurched. So much for this dream being a happy one. But if pinching himself was what Spock wanted...

He did.

It hurt.

Oh.

_Oh_.

OoOoOoOoOo

"What are your intentions towards our son?" Queen Lamamama asked.

Prince Zachycakes Spock Quinto stood with his hands behind his back before the royal couple. He was alone in facing the two of them upon his own insistence; the Princess need not be present while his parents asked questions to determine Spock's sincerity. Likely his indignation would prove more of a hindrance than a help.

"I am in love with your son and wish to make him happy." He saw no point in beating about the bush.

"And you think that best achieved by seeking his hand in marriage?" she asked, knowing full well that their son was more than amenable to this plan of action. At least this Prince Zachycakes had been properly bred in that he'd come before them to ask for their blessings.

"Yes."

It was not that the single-syllable word was saturated with self-confidence or uncertainty – or any type of tone at all, for that matter. He said this as if it was the most natural conclusion in the world, and in some ways it was.

There was a silence, in which Spock breathed easily and the Queen crossed her legs and the King stroked his chin thoughtfully. It must be said that their people were extremely happy with them as their leaders. Under their reign Tumblrland seemed to enter into a golden age, which was further proved by the ending of the Troll Terror and the reward of careful crop planning. While the Queen created works of art incomparable in all of Tumblrland, the King was renowned for his intellect and quick thinking, as well as his down-to-earth manner.

The latter was especially apparent when he broke the silence with, "Go for it."

Queen Lamamama turned her head and speared him with a look, which he met full on. After a moment, they faced Spock again, and both were smiling.

It was a good marriage that enabled the two parties to communicate without words. However, since none of us are part of that marriage – which would be decidedly odd and would result in more than a few half-siblings for Princess Whitelaw – I will transcribe said conversation in easy-to-read dialogue format.

Queen Lamamama: _Are you mad?_

King Natatas: _No. But I like him. He'll be good for Jim._

Queen Lamamama: _He's certainly more responsible. But you do realise until now he was a doll?_

King Natatas: _Gaga_ _did say..._

Queen Lamamama: _Yes. And I like him too. Jamesina's happier than he's been for...awhile._

King Natatas: _There we go._

Queen Lamamama: _Still, dear, your phrasing leaves something to be desired._

King Natatas: _I will endeavour to be more eloquent in the future, love._

Yes. Definitely a good marriage. And speaking of marriages, it looked like there would be another one coming soon.

OoOoOoOoOo

"So what d'you think of him, Bones?" Jim asked excitedly.

He'd brought Prince Zach down to see his best friend, wanting McCoy to be the first to hear the good news. While the Healer was flattered that he was held in such high regard – despite their somewhat strained relationship of late – there was _something_ about the Vulcan that he found unsettling. Luckily enough he didn't have to keep his opinion to himself, seeing as Spock had politely bowed out of the Healing Wing, having been summoned to a clothes fitting.

"Jim," he said heavily, taking a seat and encouraging his young friend to do the same. "You know I care about you."

The grin had slipped off Princess Whitelaw's face. "You don't like him."

"I didn't I say I didn't like him." In point of fact, Leonard did _not_ like Zachycakes, because of the way he spoke and acted as if everyone else could never hope to equal his intelligence, as if everyone was below him, but most importantly, most irksome of all – "He's just so emotionless!"

"No, he's not!"

"He has no expression," Bones retorted flatly. "At _all_."

Jim looked outraged. "You just have to know where to look!"

"And you don't think that it's a little convenient that only _you_ do?" he bit out, heavy on the sarcasm.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The Princess' blue eyes were narrowed to slits, and he didn't give McCoy a chance to answer. "You know, you're doing the exact same thing as when I first told you about him. Saying that he was part of my imagination. And you were _wrong_."

He sighed. "I'll give you that. But he was standing right here when you told me you were getting married. Normal people would've looked, I don't know, a little _happy_ maybe? And yet he still had on his...his...poker face!"

Leonard H. McCoy abruptly got off the chair he'd been occupying and started pacing agitatedly in the space next to his desk. The nurses and other healers in the Healing Wing gathered around the two of them, bobbing their heads and bodies to the beat of the music that had inexplicably started up. They sang:

"Mmm-mmm-McCoy, mmm-mmm-McCoy, mmm-mmm-McCoy, mmm-mmm-McCoy –"

The head healer stopped his pacing and turned to Jamesina. "I wanna protect you like your parents do, please. I know you told me that you love him, bear with me (you love him). But my intuition says you're making a mistake. I'm a doctor not an expert, but I bet stone is his heart.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhh, oh-oh-e-oh-oh-oh, I'll take him out, show him what I've got. Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhh, oh-oh-e-oh-oh-oh, I'll take him out, show him what I've got.

"Can't read his, can't read his, no I can't read his Vulcan face. (It doesn't look like he loves you.) Can't read his, can't read his, no I can't read his Vulcan face. (It doesn't look like he loves you.)

"V-v-v-Vulcan face, v-v-v-Vulcan face –"

"Mmm-mmm-McCoy –"

"V-v-v-Vulcan face, v-v-v-Vulcan face –"

"Mmm-mmm-McCoy –"

"I wanna believe you Jim, I know you feel for him. A little gambling is fun but not with this (just trust me). Marriage ain't a picnic, you'll have to take my word, I know – and Jim when it's love if it's not real you'd better run, run. Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhh, oh-oh-e-oh-oh-oh, I'll take him out, show him what I've got. Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhh, oh-oh-e-oh-oh-oh, I'll take him out, show him what I've got.

"Can't read his, can't read his, no I can't read his Vulcan face. (It doesn't look like he loves you.) Can't read his, can't read his, no I can't read his Vulcan face. (It doesn't look like he loves you.)

"V-v-v-Vulcan face, v-v-v-Vulcan face –"

"Mmm-mmm-McCoy –"

"V-v-v-Vulcan face, v-v-v-Vulcan face –"

"Mmm-mmm-McCoy –"

"He won't tell you that he loves you, kiss or hug you, 'cause he's bluffin', there's nothing – I'm not lying I'm just looking out for you, I do that. Just tell this to your goblin, 'take you leave before I pay you out'. I promise this, promise this – he hurts you and he's history.

"Can't read his, can't read his, no I can't read his Vulcan face. (It doesn't look like he loves you.) Can't read his, can't read his, no I can't read his Vulcan face. (It doesn't look like he loves you.)

"Can't read his, can't read his, no I can't read his Vulcan face. (It doesn't look like he loves you.) Can't read his, can't read his, no I can't read his Vulcan face. (It doesn't look like he loves you.)

"Can't read his, can't read his, no I can't read his Vulcan face. (It doesn't look like he loves you.) Can't read his, can't read his, no I can't read his Vulcan face. (It doesn't look like he loves you.)

"V-v-v-Vulcan face, v-v-v-Vulcan face – V-v-v-Vulcan face, v-v-v-Vulcan face –"

"It doesn't look like he loves you."

"V-v-v-Vulcan face, v-v-v-Vulcan face –"

"Mmm-mmm-McCoy –"

"V-v-v-Vulcan face, v-v-v-Vulcan face –"

"Mmm-mmm-McCoy –"

"V-v-v-Vulcan face, v-v-v-Vulcan face –"

"Mmm-mmm-McCoy –"

"V-v-v-Vulcan face, v-v-v-Vulcan face –"

"Mmm-mmm-McCoy."

OoOoOoOoOo

Queen Lamamama decided that they would have the engagement party on Tuesday night, so that it would coincide with New Years. It was soon enough that the foreign emissaries staying at the palace could still attend, although the castle staff had to scramble to prepare for another main event so soon after the last. Still, with her and King Natatas in charge of the arrangements, everything was made ready in time and promised to be more than spectacular.

It was, after all, their only son that was getting married.

However, it was their future-son-in-law that we are interested in right now. Prince Zachcakes had made his way to the Healing Wing, in which only one person remained. (The place was empty even of the infirm, which would probably be rectified by tomorrow morning, as there would undoubtedly be fools who decided that a swordfight after downing a significant of alcohol was a jolly good idea.)

"What do you want?" Leonard asked, not even turning away from where he faced the fireplace. It wasn't lit, seeing as there was light streaming in through the large windows along the west wall. The rest of his staff had been granted leave to prepare themselves for the festivities later. He himself had opted to remain in his blue tunic, and by his desk.

"Am I to assume that you will not be attending tonight's social gathering?"

Even if he hadn't recognised the sound of his precise steps, there was no mistaking that voice. Or the choice of words.

"I don't think Jim would be too happy if I did."

"On the contrary. The Princess would be most upset if you did not attend."

He snorted without mirth. "Oh, you don't know what I said to him last."

Spock stepped forward so that McCoy could see him from out of the corner of his eyes.

"I managed to overhear the tail end of your conversation."

Bones' face twisted into an expression of distaste. "Didn't your momma teach you it's impolite to eavesdrop?"

He could see Spock stiffen, which was something of a feat, considering his already rigid posture.

"My manners –"

"Aren't what you came here to tell me about. _What do you want_?"

"You alluded to the misconception that I have no emotions. This is untrue. I merely suppress them, thus allowing myself serenity in the face of logic." The Prince took a measured breath. "I was more insulted when you insinuated that I did not have feelings for the Princess."

"Anyone in my shoes would've said the same."

"I realise that it will take an inordinate amount of time to convince you otherwise," Zachycakes continued, as if he hadn't spoken (which made him grind his teeth), "So I will not. Instead, I urge you to attend."

McCoy finally gave in to the temptation of turning his head towards Spock, if only to level him with a suspicious look. "Why?"

"It will mean a lot to Jim."

He left, then. Leonard stared after him, not even noticing that his mouth was agape even after the particular footsteps of the Vulcan hobgoblin (he didn't know why that moniker fit, only that it did) had long died away, more surprised at his use of the Princess' preferred name than at the surprising possibility that he might actually have, maybe, been sincere.

OoOoOoOoOo

Princess Whitelaw twisted the material of his outfit a little nervously. Though he had no doubt that he looked good in the deep blue gown and the sheer white over-robe, he did feel kind of nervous. There were even more people who had turned up when compared to previous happenings in Tumblrland throughout his lifetime (which, you know, wasn't exactly _that_ long). He was surprised the castle was big enough to accommodate so many.

A hand stilled his. Its heat clued him in as to who the owner of said hand was, as did the voice. "Your beauty shines, Jim."

He blushed, and looked up. He bit his lip. If _his_ beauty shone, then Zach's compared to that of a star. Or brighter. Like a sun. (Let us not forget that the Princess does not come from an astronomically advanced point in time, unlike his fiancé.) His outfit consisted primarily of black velvet, and the striped purple cravat did not subtract from his appearance at all.

Jamesina smiled when the Vulcan lifted their entwined hands and kissed tips of his fingers gently. "Nervous?"

The brown eyes were intense. "Not with you by my side."

He squeezed the hand in his, and his smile widened. The Princess would have tiptoed to kiss Spock, but just then the music started, signalling that they were to enter the hall. Jim made a face, and separated their hands. Their audience awaited.

"Shall we?" asked Spock, offering his arm.

Princess Whitelaw took it, and once again thought that Bones was an idiot. Anyone could see the love in those eyes.

"Let's."

OoOoOoOoOo

As it was, there could not have been a more perfect night. Dinner had gone over smoothly, with Spock on one side and his godmother on the other. Lady Gaga had no qualms about accepting Prince Zachycakes; in fact, the twinkle in her large eyes more than suggested she had something to do with – everything.

There were a few pointed looks and whispers behind hands, but Princess Whitelaw had become very good at ignoring these since...oh, last Yule. Really, there was only one person whose opinion mattered to him in this instance – and he'd made it quite clear that he disapproved. He wasn't there, after all.

"Jim."

He looked up, feeling the gentle press of Spock's fingers on his elbow. His smile was a little wavery, but it was still a smile. "Hey."

"You are unhappy."

"No, I –" Jamesina started, then remembered that Spock was Vulcan. "Yeah."

The Prince drew him away from prying ears and brought him to a balcony. Ironically enough, it was the one where Jim had found the figurine of Spock barely a week ago. Zach looked around, making sure that they were alone. When he'd ascertained that yes, they were indeed; he pulled the Princess to him, enveloping him in a cocoon of warmth.

Jamesina sighed.

Spock didn't offer a word of comfort – he probably thought it illogical to do so. But that he was there, and knew exactly what Jim was feeling, and was still willing to stay with him, well. It made him feel a teeny bit better.

He didn't know how long they stood there. He didn't really care. All he knew was that Spock withdrew far too soon.

"Come."

Anyone else would have sounded imperious or commanding, irritated even. But the toneless way Zachycakes had with his words made it more of a suggestion than anything, something Jamesina could do, and should, but he would not hold it against him if he didn't. And of course, there was the undercurrent of affection – apparently only audible to Jim's ears, he thought bitterly.

Jamesina did follow Spock, in case you were wondering. They walked side by side down the hallway in silence, standing close enough that the back of their hands would occasionally brush against each other.

When Spock stopped, just before the entrance to the Great Hall, he didn't notice at first. It only really registered when he said, "I will enter first, and give you privacy."

"Thanks, hobgoblin."

The corners of the Prince's mouth seemed to twitch – or it could have been a trick of the light – before he met the Princess' eyes and walked into the Hall.

Leaving Princess Whitelaw and Healer McCoy in the passage.

Silence.

"Bones –"

"Jim –"

Both of them stopped, and smiled ruefully at each other. The Princess waved a hand at his best friend. "You go first."

"Right." McCoy cleared his throat a couple of times, thinking about what he was going to say. Finally he settled for staring just below one of the torches along the wall – not directly at it, because that would ruin his eyesight unnecessarily, and he wasn't stupid – and gruffly saying, "I'm sorry. I shoulda believed you, even the first time. You're my best friend, Jim, and if this guy makes you happy...then he's the right one for you."

When he looked at the Princess, the smile was almost as blinding as if he'd looked directly into the flickering flame of the torch.

"Bones, I..._thank_ _you_. You don't know how much that means to me."

He rubbed the back of his head. "I may have some idea."

Jamesina stepped closer and touched his shoulder. "Still, thanks."

"Yeah, yeah. You'd better get back in there."

By the smile the Princess shot at him, Bones knew that he knew the grumpiness was just his way of masking the discomfort of accepting gratitude. As Princess Whitelaw turned to lay his hand on the door, he stopped him.

"Jim, wait."

He turned, and blinked in surprise at being pulled into an embrace. It was over in a second, but it was a hug, and it warmed him to the tips of his toes.

If Leonard H. McCoy thought that Jim's earlier grin was blinding, then it came as close to being blinding to this one as coal came close to being as iridescent as diamond. Which is to say, it didn't come close.

_At all_.

OoOoOoOoOo

"Friends and countrymen!" King Natatas smiled out at the crowd, standing in front of his throne that was situated on a raised dais at the front of the room. "I would like to thank you for attending. Tonight we celebrate the engagement of Princess Whitelaw. You all know my son, our son –" he amended, turning his head to survey his wife fondly. "And you know he can be quite a handful."

There was a laugh around the Hall. Yes, they knew.

"But doubtless you love him, maybe as much as we do. And now, he's found someone who loves him even more than his parents." The King coughed a little and blinked, trying to rid the suspicious shine in his eyes. "Prince Zachycakes." He managed to catch Spock's eyes, where he stood next to his son. "I'll not tell you what you should or shouldn't do. I just hope you'll be able to keep up with our Jamesina."

Spock nodded solemnly, allowing his mouth to form the tiniest of smiles. Unconsciously his arm tightened around Jim's waist.

Queen Lamamama stood to join her husband, both now holding goblets handed to them by a servant. (Around the Hall, those who did not have a goblet were quickly supplied one.) She held it aloft. "To Jim and Spock. To family. And most importantly, to love."

"To love," rumbled the rest of the crowd.

The King placed his goblet on the waiting tray and clapped his hands once, grinning. (It was obvious where Jim had gotten it from.) "And now, if I could call on my son and future-son to lead the dancing?"

As he was led to the middle of the floor, Jamesina noticed the Prince nodding at the lead musician – who very obviously nodded back.

"What did you do?" he asked suspiciously, though fighting a smile.

"I merely spoke with him before the ceremony to make certain arrangements."

"Arrangements?" Yeah, there was no use trying to keep the smile off his face anymore.

"You will see," Zachycakes said enigmatically as they stopped.

When the music started, it was soft and mellow. And, to Jim's delight, his fiancé started singing.

"You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off you. You'd be like Heaven to touch; I wanna hold you so much. At long last love has arrived, and I thank Surak I'm alive. You're just too good to be true – can't take my eyes off you.

"Pardon the way that I stare; there's nothing else to compare. The sight of you makes me weak. There are no words left to speak. But if you feel like I feel, please let me know that it's real. You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off you."

Abruptly the music changed, becoming more jaunty and upbeat, primarily featuring the instrument Sulu had played on Delta Vega. Princess Whitelaw laughed as he was twirled, and everyone in the Hall – including Bones – was awed when the Prince started singing in earnest.

"I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright; I need you, baby, to warm a lonely night. I love you baby, trust in me when I say: Oh, pretty baby, don't bring me down, I pray. Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay – and let me love you, baby, let me love you."

The music lulled again, and Jim started up.

"You're just too good to be true, can't keep my eyes off you. You feel like Heaven to touch; I wanna hold you so much. At long last love has arrived, and I thank God I'm alive. You're just too good to be true – can't take my eyes off you."

And although they were supposed to be leading the dancing, no one else joined them on the floor. They were too riveted on the sight of the two of them, dancing as though they were parts of a whole, having eyes for none but each other. They were too riveted on the sight of true love.

"I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright; I need you, baby, to warm my lonely nights. I love you baby, trust in me when I say: Oh, pretty baby, don't bring me down, I pray. Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay. And let me love you, baby, let me love you..."

As they leaned in for a chaste kiss, there was something like a collective "_Aww_" from the crowd. Even Bones, who finally and wholly believed that Spock loved his best friend. He happily accepted the offer of being the best man at their wedding, which was held six months later. They lived on to be King Zachycakes and Queen Whitelaw, and were even more revered than King Natatas and Queen Lamamama, achieving a great many things, including the defeat of the Conqueror Nero (the irony of that was not lost on the two of them).

But, for now they stood amidst applause, merely loving each other.

As we pan away, we must take a glance into the Princess' rooms. Because on the mantelpiece, keeping the _Enterprise _company, were two figurines. The detailing was exquisite. One had pointed ears and shiny black hair and a blue-and-black outfit. The other was blue-eyed and blond-haired and in a gold-and-black outfit. Their hands were entwined.

Iridescent, daisy-scented bubbles floated around them.

_And they lived happily ever after._

OoOoOoOoOo

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek. I don't own Princess Whitelaw, either the real one (rawr) or the fictional one of the children's book series (that belongs to natatas), but I do own this particular aspect of him. I don't own King Natatas and Queen Lamama, nor do I own Lady Gaga. I don't own the title of this story, but I did come up with the plot by myself. I don't own the songs mentioned in this story, though I do own the time used to butcher them. Are you getting a sense of what I do and do not own yet?

Wow. I'm finished.

Now bear with me, I've got some notes on the whole story, but if you'd like to skip them, be my guest. (I only ask that you at least drop me review.) And the song list will be here, bolded, as they're combined with the notes, which are separated by chapter.

Act I:

**Yellow Submarine, by the Beatles**

**My Gallant Crew, from H.M.S. Pinafore by Gilbert and Sullivan**

**Everybody (Backstreet's Back), by the Backstreet Boys**

**Evacuate the Dance Floor, by Cascada**

- There's a Monty Python reference in there, if you look.

- My use of Romulan phrases are stolen from the Internet, so allow for some error. In this chapter I used _yy'Ah'an_ which means _I'll kill you_, while _yy'a Favi_ means _die, dog_.

- In case it wasn't clear, this is an AU. Nero did not manage to destroy Vulcan when he first arrived, due to the fact that Vulcan had a sophisticated defence system. I am aware that this is not so in canon, as Vulcan is a peaceful canon. But this is my fanfic.

- _Khaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan_!

Act II:

**Blue Eyes, by Mika**

**My Happy Ending, by Avril Lavigne**

**Keep Your Hands Off My Girl, by Good Charlotte**

- I've gone with the movie when it comes to Romulan blood...unless of course that one that Sulu stabbed was a Reman, if the Reman are that physiologically different from Romulans...

- The names of the Romulans you aren't familiar with are yanked off a Rihannsu name generator. The Internet's so helpful.

- The irony of Ayel's brother's death – the Vulcan's first contact was with Orion smugglers, who were less than friendly. To cut a long story short, Romulans are the branch of Vulcans that left the planet and grew distrustful of all other races.

- The phrases used in this chapter: _I-jol au_, according to the Internet, means _I love you_, while _Rhifv Areinnye daeohre _is equivalent to _when pigs fly_. I can't remember the exact translation.

Act III:

**Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It), by Beyoncé**

**Dancing Queen, by ABBA**

**Love me Dead, by Ludo**

**Kiss Me, by New Found Glory**

**Moondance, by Michael Bublé**

**Brown Eyes, by Lady Gaga**

**- **In case you're new to K/S fanfic, or ST fanfic in general, the term _t'hy'la_ is a Vulcan one, and the translation given (which apparently is the closest translation, as there is no term for it in English) is _friend, brother _and_ lover._

- I just had to repurpose the fatshirt into a dress.

- Sulu/Chekov is my second greatest love after Kirk/Spock, and I do confess to loving a little Scotty/Uhura

Act IV:

**Take Me Away, by Fefe Dobson**

**Poker Face, by Lady Gaga**

**Can't Take My Eyes of You, by Muse**

- This is the shortest of all the four acts, because it would've been too long to add it to Act III. Also, it might sound a little choppy in places. Apologies.

General notes:

- Chekov starts at nineteen and is seventeen when he's the Sugarplum Fairy – plot hole. Deal with it.

- NRW and Joanna, sunset pies, Len; those are just Tumblr inside jokes. Ask me about them if you're unclear.

- I've never watched _The Nutcracker_, either the ballet or the many movies. I've just twisted the original storyline to fit my needs – you can still see it, if you squint.

Clara = Princess Whitelaw

Nutcracker = Prince Zachycakes/Spock

Fritz = Khan

Toymaker (Drosselmeyer?) = Lady Gaga

Mouse King = Nero

Sugarplum Fairy = Chekov

- I didn't insert Spock Prime, because I would've gone blind trying to fit him in.

- I'm not sure if writing a song from scratch or changing the lyrics of a pre-existing song to suit your needs is harder. I never want to do either (again).

- I try to insert narration where there are actual pauses in the singing bits of the songs. So it flows alright, and so you don't have to play the song over and over again – if you are listening while reading, of course.

And that's it. I've had my ups and downs while writing this – although, to be honest, I was only joking when I suggested writing it. It's taken up more than I expected. It was supposed to be pure crack, but apparently I can't write that. It got more serious that I intended. I gave Ayel backstory, for heaven's sake.

Still. It's over now. And if you've stuck with me for that long, then thank you. I love you.

Please review.

Anila.


End file.
